Debriefing Riggs
by morgana-avalon
Summary: After most closed cases, Avery debriefes Riggs personally. A friendship and then bond evolves. Is based on the series, but will deviate. (AU)
1. Chapter 1

Debriefing Riggs

Episode 1

Pilot – The Bank robbery/hostage situation

Looking about, Martin took in the fancy office. Well, it belonged to a LAPD captain, so it was supposed to be fancy, he reckoned. The fact that said LAPD captain kept him waiting was tactic. He knew that too. It was what his commanding officers had tended to do when dealing with upstarts like him.

It was needless to say Martin Riggs had a lot of experience when it came down to his officer in command reprimanding him for rash actions. Though, truth be told, he'd grown a thick skin and nowadays, it was nearly impossible to intimidate him into behaving. That happened when a man had nothing left to lose.

It was his first time waiting in this particular office though. He didn't known the LAPD captain yet and wasn't sure he even remembered the man's name correctly. Was it Avery or something like that? He hadn't met the man yet and realized they were already off to a bad start, but that hostage situation had needed handling. His new partner, one Roger Murtaugh, hadn't moved fast enough where he was concerned and hostages had been in danger. He hadn't seen any other solution than to go in and take charge, as he didn't want to lose momentum.

In the end, he'd saved all hostages. Sure, he'd killed the bank robbers and the building suffered severe damage, but the people who mattered were still unharmed and alive. To him, it was as simple as that, but he figured the LAPD captain saw things differently. It was bad enough IA had ordered mandatory therapy sessions, but the captain insisting on debriefing him in person was even worse. This man could request another transfer and he really didn't want to return to El Paso where memories waited for him around every corner.

He wanted to be in LA, close to her grave, so he could visit her; the woman he'd loved and failed to protect. This was on him. He should have been at her side instead of hunting drug dealers.

"Martin Riggs?" Brooks frowned upon seeing his newest detective sit motionless in the chair opposite his desk. He'd expected to find Riggs pacing, maybe even cursing, but no, the other man was poised and in control. How odd. He'd been prepared for the exact opposite.

"Captain?" Martin carefully took in the other man's appearance, who dressed in a tailored suit, was middle-aged, and looked way too soft to be a LAPD captain – that was his first impression. But he knew appearances could be deceiving. There had to be a good reason Avery had made captain and Martin decided to continue with caution. He wasn't going to underestimate his superior.

"Yes, I'm Brooks Avery," he introduced himself, trying to figure out how to proceed. Riggs had gotten to his feet the moment the younger man became aware of his presence and stood straight and tall. Was it just his imagination or had Riggs been about to salute him?

Martin stopped himself just in time. Being a Navy SEAL had become ingrained on his soul and sometimes he reverted back to saluting when in the presence of a higher ranking officer, or in this case, a LAPD captain. Some habits were hard to break.

"Sit down, detective Riggs," Brooks said as he moved behind his desk to take his seat. Most of the time he was a good judge of character; sure he made his share of mistakes, but usually he knew how to sort out the bad ones that had no business being a cop.

Studying Riggs, who slowly sat down, his instincts told him that this was one of the good guys. After reading about what had happened at the bank, he'd assumed Riggs was arrogant and cocky, but the Texan seemed quite the opposite, even a tad shy, sitting there like a child who'd been caught with their hand inside the cookie jar and expecting to be punished for it.

For the moment he was tempted to give Riggs the benefit of the doubt, but he needed more in order to make an informed decision. "I make it a point to meet everyone new on my team, detective. I like to know the face that goes with the name."

Martin nodded. "Makes sense, sir." He appreciated a captain who wanted to be in touch with his detectives, but there was more to him being here and he patiently waited. He'd learned patience when on sniper duty overseas. It had been a hard lesson, and painful, but he'd learned it well.

It seemed that Martin Riggs was full of surprises, Brooks mused. This was not the way he'd imagined their conversation would go. He'd expected Riggs to shoot off his mouth at this point, but all he got was a respectful silence. It threw him a little and he wasn't sure what to do next. Best to go with his instincts then. "Do you know why you're here, Riggs?"

Of course he did. "The hostage situation?" Best to play dumb for the moment. First he needed to figure out who he was dealing with. He had the feeling there was more to Avery than met the eye and he wasn't going to underestimate him.

Brooks studied the Texan more closely. The man merely played dumb; he knew why he was here. Yet, those brown eyes showed respect, no mockery, no disdain, no disgust, which intrigued him. Martin Riggs was tall, athletically build, and struck him as a lady's man. Guys like that usually openly showed their disgust when meeting a gay cop, regardless of his position within the police force. Riggs however merely showed him respect, which was unexpected, but very welcome. "Yes, the hostage situation."

"I didn't want to lose momentum, sir. They struck me as in over their heads, I mean, who orders a chopper on a busy street like that? And they threatened a hostage. I saw an opening and took it." He'd been in similar situations before, and had learned that the more time passed, the harder it was to get the hostages out alive.

Brooks leaned back and considered the Texan's words. He could tell Riggs was speaking the truth. This wasn't about a new detective sending out a message to his partner, or being bad at following orders. This was a Navy SEAL who had come about a hostage situation and who had acted. "I believe you," he said, curious how Riggs would react to that.

Momentarily taken aback, Martin blinked. "You do?"

"Yeah, I do," Brooks confirmed, realizing having Riggs on the team would cause him many sleepless nights, but the Texan meant well and got the job done, even though his methods left much to be desired. "I listened to the audio earlier," he said, getting to the heart of the matter. "And I want to know what happened in there. You grabbed hold of that rifle and aimed it at your head, telling the bank robber not to miss!" Hearing that had sent chills down his spine. Riggs hadn't been fooling around; the man had been serious.

Ah, now he understood why the captain himself wanted to debrief him. "Just a way to confuse the perps, sir," he offered quickly, ready to confuse and distract the other man. "You know, doing the exact opposite of what they expect of you in order to unbalances them. It's strategy, sir, nothing else." If he was lucky, Avery believed him. If not…

Brooks didn't believe a single word. He just didn't. He'd seen the look on Riggs' face just now when he'd asked about putting that barrel to his head. He'd heard a particular tone on the audio tape. That hadn't been strategy. But how to handle this? Riggs' transfer request came from the City Attorney's office and Ronnie was a good friend, whom he didn't want to alienate. Maybe he could give Riggs another chance.

Avery remaining silent wasn't a good thing and Martin knew he had to act. Maybe distraction worked best. "I got the job done, didn't I? Hostages weren't hurt, safe wasn't cracked. Sure the building suffered, but that's collateral damage and the insurance will cover that." If needed he could sweet talk the guy.

Riggs was good, Brooks had to admit to that. Also, IA was working on their report, but Brooks suspected Riggs would be cleared, as the bank robbers had been shot by their own weapon. Also, the audio tapes would eventually work in Riggs' advantage. But the thing he couldn't get over was the way Riggs had provoked the robbers to shoot him right between the eyes. What could possibly drive a man to do that? How much pain was Martin Riggs in? And suddenly he understood; the Texan was hurting.

"Captain?" Avery's expression was hard to read. The LAPD captain was lost in thought and Martin wished he knew what was going on in the other man's head. Did he still have a job to return to after his suspension was lifted?

"This is what we'll do. While IA is investigating the hostage situation you'll continue to work with detective Murtaugh, but he'll act as the senior officer. You'll follow his lead." Yes, Roger might be able to steer Riggs in the right direction. "I'll also continue debriefing you personally after each closed case." Those were his terms and Riggs could either take it or leave it, but he suspected he already knew the answer.

Well, things could have turned out much worse and Martin knew it. He could follow orders, if he wanted, and Murtaugh seemed easy going, maybe even a bit of a push over, so he didn't expect any problems there. Avery debriefing him was something he could have done without as they had already scheduled mandatory therapy session with a doctor Cahill, so he felt he was punished twice. He didn't like talking at any rate. "Fine, we can do that," he conceded eventually. He got to his feet and gave Avery his most blinding smile, hoping his Texan charm worked on his new captain.

"Now get out of here. I've work to do." Brooks watched Riggs quickly flee the office and sighed. That man was trouble, and now, courtesy of Ronnie Delgado, his to deal with.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Debriefing Riggs

Episode 1

Pilot – The Alvarez case

Brooks worriedly studied his newest detective, who seemed ill at ease. The fact that he sported a heavily bandaged shoulder, completed with a sling to rest his arm in, and a foot injury, might contribute to that. "Riggs, how did this happen?"

After their first talk regarding the hostage situation, he'd hoped the Texan would tune it down, but now, Riggs had made things worse. "You got shot twice!" he added, when Riggs stayed quiet. All he got was an apologetic look, which caused him to deeply sigh. "Start talking." He wanted to know what had really happened at that warehouse, not what Murtaugh had typed up in that confusing report of his!

"Where do you want me to start, cap?" Martin winked at the older man, having long realized Avery was one of the good guys. He was Murtaugh's former partner and highly respected at the precinct. Avery didn't mind taking the rap for his detectives if the cop in question hadn't done anything wrong in Avery's book. Turned out the captain was a man after his heart. "What do you want to know? Can you be a bit more specific?" He regretted that he couldn't add his normally theatrical hand gestures. He'd look foolish now that he was limited to the use of one hand only.

Shaking his head, Brooks counted to ten and tried to remain calm. "What happened at the warehouse? No obscuring, just facts. And I want them now!"

Riggs carefully considered his reply before speaking up as he didn't want to get his partner into trouble. "Well, they'd abducted the Alvaraz's kid. A twelve year old boy named Oscar and I promised his mother to get him out. So I had a little chat with the bad guys and made them hand over Oscar." That sounded good. No mention of Roger, no mention of the sniper rifle he'd taken along.

Brooks glared at Riggs, knowing exactly what his detective was trying to do. "We found a rifle at the warehouse with your fingerprints on it. We also happened upon five corpses – killed by said rifle. Explain that?"

"Well, when you aim at a bad guy and pull the trigger, the bullet exits the barrel and—"

"Riggs! Don't play dumb! You know what I want to hear!" Fed up with his detective's evading, Brooks got to his feet and came to a halt in front of Riggs. "Did you shoot them?"

Unfortunately Martin didn't have it in him to lie to his captain, so he carefully shrugged and whispered, "Who else could have shot them?"

"So you admit to shooting them?" Brooks glared at Riggs, but the other man dodged him.

"Yeah, out of self defense. I had to get the kid out of there and they stood in the way." He cast a quick look at Avery, wondering if that meant he was suspended – again. He'd just gotten his badge and gun back after the report on the bank robbery had cleared him. "Do you want me to hand in my badge and gun?"

Brooks shook his head and walked over to the window, looking out over the busy city. God, he loved LA, but he could do without the criminals making his life hell. "What happened next? After Roger drove your truck in there."

Riggs arched an eyebrow, surprised his partner had put that in his report. "Well, we had to get the kid into safety, so we left. Hennicky was waiting for us. He'd positioned himself on the roof of the opposite building." If only he knew what Murtaugh had and hadn't told their captain. He was flying blind here.

"Go on," Brooks said, turning around and closely studying the Texan. He still hadn't gotten to the heart of the matter, but he was getting there.

"Hennicky shot me," Riggs continued, seeing no reason why to hide that fact. "We hid behind some crates and tried to come up with a game plan."

Ah, now things were finally getting interesting. "What kind of game plan, Riggs? And don't lie to me. If you do, you'll find yourself suspended indefinitely. Either tell me the truth or find another division that wants to take you on." Maybe he was being harsh, but he needed to find out if Riggs was a loose cannon or not.

Martin wasn't sure what to do. He wanted to stay in LA and he enjoyed working with Murtaugh. He even liked the man's family. Trish especially had welcomed him with open arms. He knew how rare it was for someone like him to come upon a nice family like that and being accepted on top of that. He didn't want to lose it, but maybe he would anyway. If he lied, he would get his walking papers, if he told the truth he'd probably be suspended anyway. He couldn't win this one. He really wasn't looking forward to more session with Cahill. She was too damn perceptive.

"Riggs, today!" Brooks pushed his detective, hoping Riggs would be honest about the incident. He'd put most pieces of the puzzle together himself, he merely wanted confirmation that he was right; that Riggs had provoked someone to kill him again. Be it either Roger or Hennicky. "Facts! No diversion, no distraction. What happened when Hennicky threatened to shoot the boy?"

Riggs had the sinking feeling that Murtaugh had put too much information in his report. Ah, what the hell. Who was he trying to fool? The truth would come out eventually. All they had to do – and probably had already done – was check the bullet that had shattered his foot. "It's complicated, cap," he said, cringing slightly.

"Tell me, Riggs and don't try my patience. Just spit it out." Brooks leaned against his desk and tried to make sense of the younger man sitting in front of him. Did Riggs really have a death wish? Was the Texan seriously trying to get killed?

"It was like this," Riggs started and fidgeted with that annoying sling the paramedic had told him to wear. "Roger only had one shot left. I volunteered to draw Hennicky's fire. That way Roger could locate him and shoot him in turn. It would have kept the kid safe and Roger would have gotten out of there too. He has a family…" And he didn't want that baby to grow up without a father.

So he had been right after all. Why wasn't he surprised? "Riggs, let me get this straight. You went out there, knowing Hennicky would kill you?"

"Yeah, cap! Roger would then take out Hennicky and reunite Oscar with his mum. Didn't I just tell you?" Riggs frowned. Why was Brooks being difficult? And what the hell was up with that particular stare?

"Tell me the rest." He had a fairly good idea what had happened next, but he wanted to hear it. What had possessed him to put Murtaugh and Riggs together? Teaming them up was already causing him sleepless nights!

"Roger shot me." Martin enjoyed himself immensely by saying that. "He shot me in the foot, so I'd drop to the ground. I grabbed my rifle and shot Hennicky. See, everything worked out just fine!"

"Riggs," muttered Brooks, exasperated. "You can't do things like that."

"What? My sole priority was keeping the boy safe, cap. They'd already lost Alvarez!" Martin wondered why there was a problem in the first place. "The bad guys are dead and we saved the boy. So what's the problem? I don't get it, cap."

"And that's the problem!" Brooks gave his detective a stern look. "You tried to get yourself killed again. The first time happened at the bank. You wanted that bank robber to shoot you. Now you practically invited Hennicky to take a shot at you. Do you have a death wish, Riggs? Cause if you do, I need to know."

His captain's directness surprised Martin momentarily. He wasn't prepared for that. "Maybe," he admitted. "I miss my girl." Now that last bit had slipped past his lips unintended.

"You miss your girl?" What the hell was Riggs talking about? "Please make sense." A headache was building behind his temples; he needed to get this over with before Riggs made things worse.

"My wife…" Martin swallowed hard and stared at the floor. He couldn't believe he was actually telling his captain about Miranda. Sure, he'd told Roger, but only because Trish had inquired if he was married. He'd never have brought it up otherwise. This was different though. He could simply tell Avery off, instead he was opening up. "She died six months ago in a car crash." And that was all he was going to say. If the captain didn't get it, then the man never would.

"I'm sorry for you loss," Brooks offered. Damn, why hadn't he known that? It hadn't been in Riggs' file! "I didn't know that." It explained some of Riggs' behavior, he reckoned. He had no idea how he would react if he lost Todd in that way. He'd be a wreck too, but to turn suicidal like Riggs had? Was it even that? What the hell was going on here?

"You couldn't know. Don't feel bad about it." Martin shrugged and ignored his aching shoulder. It was time to distract his captain and to move away from discussing Miranda as he was in no way ready for that. "So, what's the verdict? Am I suspended again?"

Brooks needed a moment to compose himself and to process what he'd just learned. Riggs had lost his wife in a car crash six months ago. Ronnie could have told him that! Now he felt like he'd made a fool out of himself. "No, you're not," he said, maybe making a grave mistake, but he couldn't take the job away from Riggs, when the younger man had nothing else left to live for. Roger and he would keep him on the straight and narrow somehow.

"Thanks," Martin whispered, wondering why Avery kept him around. Most captain wouldn't want someone like him in their department. He remained quiet and waited for his boss to tell him what would happen next.

"Riggs, do me a favor?"

Martin blinked in surprise. "Sure, cap, what is it?"

"Don't go about provoking people into killing you. Try to stay alive instead." Brooks felt emotional, something that surprised him. He wasn't someone who let his emotions get the better of him, but it was happening now. Riggs looked confused, maybe even lost and Brooks knew he had to keep a close eye on the Texan. He didn't want Riggs to die under his command.

Martin was lost for words. He didn't know what to say to that. Reassuring the captain that he'd do his best would be a lie. He did want to die. "Can't make that promise," he mumbled eventually. He lowered his gaze, unable to look at Avery.

Well, in that case, Roger and he had to make sure Riggs survived. Brooks knew they had their work cut out for them. Keeping Riggs alive would be a fulltime job.

"Are we done here?" Martin felt uncomfortable and wanted out. He peeked at his captain, but quickly averted his gaze when he found Avery staring back at him.

"Yeah, we're done. Go home and get some rest. You're on sick leave for now. That shoulder needs to heal." Also, Brooks needed time to figure out his next step and putting Riggs on sick leave seemed like a good move. "Get out, Riggs."

"Yes, cap!" Martin practically leapt to his feet and headed for the doorway. He quickly stepped outside and closed the door behind him. He shivered briefly, preferring his sessions with Cahill to the first degree Avery had put him through. To make matters even worse, he had the feeling his captain wasn't done with him yet.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Debriefing Riggs

Episode 2

Surf 'n turf

Brooks got himself some much needed coffee and headed for his office. Although Riggs and Murtaugh had wrecked havoc on LA again, surprisingly enough he was okay with it. They'd uncovered major arm deals, exposed a dirty FBI agent and had saved a young pregnant woman from getting killed. He caught himself humming contently when he opened the door, only to find Riggs in his office, seated opposite his desk and nursing his own caffeine fix. What was Riggs doing here?

"Hey, cap!" Martin thought it best to get it over with.

Confused, Brooks frowned. He sat down behind his desk and sipped, wondering if he needed something a lot stronger before this conversation was over. "Riggs." Studying the Texan, he found that the black eye was fading, but new bruises and cuts had appeared instead. "Tell me about that jump."

Riggs never expected that particular question, but went along with it. Avery was in charge for the moment. "What do you want to know?"

Brooks leaned back in his chair and continued to study his detective. He'd finally realized why Riggs was here. The ex Navy SEAL was here to be debriefed. Finding Riggs had turned up out of his own accord, stunned Brooks. To be honest, he'd completely forgotten about that stipulation. "What made you do it?"

Martin shrugged. "A sniper was about to shoot her and she stood too close to the edge. We were open and exposed. I had to get her into safety ASAP, so jumping seemed our best option."

"You did that kind of thing before?" Curious, Brooks realized he really wanted to learn more about Riggs. He wanted to know what made the other man tick. How could anyone willingly undertake such a death defying leap? Roger had sounded petrified just recalling what had happened. How had Murtaugh described it? A dive with a twist?

"Sure, you do hundreds of them during training and once you're in the field your life depends on getting it right." This conversation confused Martin. He hadn't expected Avery to ask him about that jump. "It's scary as hell at first, but you get used to it. You learn how to twist in mid air and to land safely, or if you're protecting someone, to make sure they don't end up hurt. You absorb the impact yourself, keeping your target safe." Why did Avery want to know these things?

"And considering Natasha was pregnant you took the brunt of the impact." He didn't have to ask about that. Riggs' expression told him the Texan had never questioned his action.

"Of course. She's pregnant. I had to shield her."

"And added a number of spectacular bruises yourself." Not to mention the several, shallow cuts that marred Riggs' face, arms and hands. Sure, they would heal, but the level of commitment it took to do something like that was hard to understand. Yes, he had protected innocent bystanders in the past himself, but he'd never thrown himself from a roof in order to do so.

"This?" Martin arched an eyebrow, giving his bruises a quick look and then dismissed Avery's comment. "This is nothing. I've had worse." He was serious. That jump had been fairly standard and his injuries merely superficial. "At least this time I didn't have to jump out of an exploding building," he chuckled. "Trust me, a shock wave complicates matters. Landing safely becomes challenging that way."

"Do I want to know?" Brooks whispered, hypothetically speaking. "Actually, I do want to know. What exploding building?"

Riggs finished his coffee and cocked his head questioningly. It wasn't classified information and maybe humoring Avery would get the man on his good side. "It happened while I was stationed overseas, on my first tour in Iraq. We had a hostage situation. The American consulate had been targeted and terrorists threatened to blow up the building with everyone still inside. We made our move, managed to take out most of the terrorists, but one of them got away and fled to the higher floors. I was first to arrive and he quickly triggered the detonator in order to blow himself up so I couldn't take him in. I was too late to stop him from blowing up the building and I know I wouldn't make it downstairs in time, so I had to jump. I got caught in the blast of the explosion and had a hard landing. Dislocated shoulder and some bruised ribs. Could have been much worse though."

Riggs had served overseas, in Iraq and who knew in what other places, he should keep that in mind. He tended to forget that he wasn't dealing with an ordinary cop. Riggs was an ex Navy-SEAL, highly decorated. A veteran, who had seen the worst and then probably some more. Jumping off a building in order to protect a woman wasn't that special to Riggs. But it had been special to Natasha, whose life the Texan had saved.

Cahill telling them that Riggs' wife had been pregnant when she'd died had stunned him. But after hearing that, everything had made sense. At first, he'd thought Riggs had a death wish, but he wasn't so sure anymore. This wasn't about wanting to die necessarily, this was about atonement. A man punishing himself for having survived while his wife had died. Even though Riggs wasn't to blame and had been miles away, he blamed himself for failing his wife. Damn, that changed everything. Losing his wife had left Riggs without a reason to live.

He'd misunderstood Riggs right from the start. He could never imagine the horrors Riggs had witnessed during those tours. After fighting in the war, everything happening in LA had to be relatively tame. Brooks absentmindedly shook his head. Riggs wasn't the first war veteran he'd ever met, but he was the first one to join his team. He needed a different approach where Riggs was concerned and he felt out of his league. He hoped his instincts wouldn't let him down, when he said, "At least you're still in one piece. Do try limiting jumping off rooftops, Riggs."

Martin chuckled. "It wasn't my favorite choice either. Trust me, that jump was my last resort." Seeing Avery grin helped him relax. He could grow to like his new captain, if Avery decided to give him a chance. "Anything else, cap?"

"Actually there is one more thing." Brooks wasn't sure it was the right thing to do, but as captain, he had to address it. "I came across this odd police report. It was about this scruffy looking guy who started brawling in a bar. Appears he picked a fight with the worst thugs in there. They left him beaten and bloody on the concrete. Do you know anything about that? Happened around dinner time." The report had reached him late afternoon and at first, he'd discarded it, but then his detective skills had alerted him, especially when recalling Riggs' appearance the morning after.

"Who me? Cap, I have no idea what you're talking about! I drink at home and only after work!" Martin quickly recovered; he wasn't taking the bait. Avery had to do better than that! He'd hoped his little tantrum had remained unnoticed, but apparently he'd been wrong. Avery had found out about his bar fight.

Brooks considered his options. Calling Riggs on his behavior wouldn't work; not yet. The Texan needed to trust him first, so he decided to let it go for now. "See to it that things stay that way. It wouldn't do for a LAPD detective to get entangled in bar fights." Riggs sighed, telling Brooks the other man was relieved to be let off easy. Well, he'd let get Riggs away with it this one time. "I mean it, Riggs," he added, wanting to avoid any miscommunication. "It can't happen again."

"Yes, sir," Martin reassured his captain as he got to his feet. "If that's all?"

"For now. You're dismissed," Brooks joked and pointed at the doorway.

"Feels like I'm back in the navy." Riggs happily returned the teasing. "Night, cap."

"Riggs, try to make it home safely. No more fireworks for the rest of the night!"

"I'll try." Smiling, Martin closed the door behind him. That had gone way better than he'd thought! Avery had let him off easy.

Brooks knew Riggs had gotten off easy, but punishing the guy wouldn't change a thing. What Riggs needed right now was a friend who showed him compassion and patience. He merely hoped he wouldn't run out of the latter!


	4. Chapter 4

Debriefing Riggs

Episode 3

Best buds

Martin figured there would be no debriefing this time as they hadn't technically solved the entire case. DEA was handling Angela's decapitation and Ned was still on the run. So, Martin figured – open case, no debriefing. Apparently he was wrong, at least if Avery marching his way was any indication.

"Riggs, my office, now." Brooks had questions and wanted answers before considering closing the case. He'd gotten himself some coffee on the way, but was already considering adding booze to it, now that he had to deal with Riggs. Well, he could always indulge in some scotch at home. But for now, he needed his wits about him. Dealing with the Texan was never easy.

Martin cringed, realizing he wasn't as lucky as he'd hoped. He considered swinging by the coffee machine first, but Avery cocked his head impatiently and remained near the doorway, making it very clear he should start moving. Avery's impatience puzzled Martin; he was under the impression that he hadn't done anything wrong!

"Sit down," Brooks said as he walked over to the window and looked out over LA. He gathered his thoughts and turned around. It was the third time Riggs was in here for discussing a closed case and he hadn't seen the Texan this nervous before.

"Why am I here? We didn't technically close the case. There's Angela's death and Ned still being on the run. I'd figured debriefing wasn't necessary," Martin explained.

Technically Riggs was right, but Brooks considered that a mere detail. "I have questions."

"I figured as much," Martin muttered beneath his breath, desperately trying to think of a reason why he was in trouble, but he couldn't come up with anything. "What do you want to know, cap?"

"First of, whose decision was it to give into the robbers' demands and exchange the money for Ned? I don't remember being consulted in that matter!" He wouldn't have endangered Ned's life and would have okayed the operation, but he couldn't let Riggs get away with ignoring the rules without reprimanding him.

"Mine," Martin replied without hesitation. In truth, Roger and he had both agreed that the exchange was the right thing to do, but he wasn't going to let his partner get into trouble when he could take the blame. He'd realized Murtaugh and Avery were friends and he was merely a temporary asset to the team.

"Is that so? Roger had nothing to do with it?" He knew his former partner very well. Roger would have stopped Riggs if he'd disagreed with the Texan.

"He's completely innocent, cap! He has nothing to do with this," Martin maintained. He'd told Roger he'd always have his partner's back and he'd meant that. "I take full responsibility."

Well, Riggs had caved way faster than he'd expected. "There's also the matter of getting yourself electrocuted, Riggs." Roger had told him what had happened; Riggs had taken that cattle prod for his partner, apparently without any hesitation. Brooks wasn't sure he'd have done that for his former partner.

"Hey, Murtaugh has a pace maker, it was an easy choice to make! I can handle getting zapped, he can't." End of discussion as far as he was concerned.

"I don't know what to do with you, Riggs," Brooks admitted tiredly. "My main concern is ensuring you live another day, and you… You get shot, jump off rooftops, get electrocuted and… What's going to be next?"

"I have no idea, cap, but I'm sure I'll find out!" Martin grinned naughtily. "Life's full of surprises! Live a little!"

In Riggs' case it was more like, die a little more every day! Brooks realized he wasn't getting anywhere and was about to dismiss his detective, when he remembered something else he'd wanted to ask Riggs. "How did you get the City Attorney off your back? I expected him to demand your resignation. Instead, the calls stopped. You did go see him, didn't you?" He was under the impression Riggs had done so.

This was his least favorite subject and Martin proceeded with caution. "Yeah, I talked to him. Explained matters and smooth talked my way out of it. Sweet Texan charm, cap, works every time." He hoped it worked this time too, as he smiled mischievously at his captain.

Brooks was no fool; he knew Riggs was trying to manipulate him. He decided to play along – for now. "Well, keep it that way. I don't want the City Attorney breathing down my neck because you keep wrecking stuff!"

"I'll work on it," Martin promised as he slowly got to his feet. "More questions, cap, or are we done here? I have loads of paper work to catch up on." And another session with Cahill scheduled, which he could do without, but he would show up.

"For the time being, yes, we're done. Get back to work, Riggs."

"Yeah, going back to catching bad guys! Night, cap!" Martin quickly left the office and sighed deeply after closing the door behind him. He hadn't minded the first couple of questions, but Avery asking about Ronnie worried him. He had to ensure his father in law stopped calling Avery. Maybe Ronnie would back down if he messaged him once in a while. At this point, ignoring Ronnie would backfire on him. He just had to remind himself to stay in touch with the guy. Avery was already suspicious and that was a dangerous thing.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Debriefing Riggs

Episode 4

There goes the neighborhood

"Riggs? Step into my office, will you?" Brooks wanted to know how the mandatory session with Cahill had gone. He hoped Murtaugh and Riggs had settled their differences, as he did worry about them. Finding out that Roger had punched Riggs had stunned him. He didn't know his friend like that. It was a miracle that Riggs hadn't exploded and punched him back. It looked like the Texan had more self control than he'd thought.

Was Avery being serious? They'd just buried the hatchet thanks to Cahill cajoling them and now the captain wanted a word? Ah well, Avery had made that stipulation some time back, so he reckoned he wasn't going to get out after all. He'd hoped Avery would forget about it as time passed by. Seemed like he was out of luck. "Sure, cap!"

Brooks gestured for Riggs to close the door and to take his usual seat. "Congratulations on getting through this one without injuring yourself," he started, hoping to ease Riggs into the conversation. "Or is there anything you need to tell me?"

"Nope," Martin replied and smiled. "No injuries this time. I'm still in one piece." Maybe this time, their talk would go fine and be over quick? He hoped so. He needed to go home and wash his clothes. Ever since taking down their black hulk he'd been running around feeling dirty, He planned on forgoing the shower and hit the ocean instead. He was in the mood for a swim.

"I want you to put this into the bottom drawer of your desk and leave it there for emergencies." Brooks uncovered a bag from beneath his desk, got to his feet and dropped the package into Riggs' lap.

"Uh, cap, don't take this the wrong way, but you don't need to buy me gifts!" Puzzled, Martin joked around in order to cover up for his confusion. "What's this anyway?" He peeked inside. "Clothes?"

"You need to keep a spare outfit at the precinct. I can't have you running around dripping wet all day!" He wasn't sure Riggs would accept the outfit, so he waited, curious as to find out what would happen next. He didn't know why he'd gone ahead and bought the clothes. Maybe because he'd realized Martin seemed to constantly wear the same three outfits to work. Maybe the Texan didn't own more clothes than that because he'd simply never bothered buying more? Todd often advised him on what clothes to wear and when. Maybe Riggs' wife had taken care of his outfits too, and now that she was gone, he couldn't be bothered to buy them himself. It was a very real possibility.

Martin's first reaction was to tell Avery no and to place the bag onto his captain's desk, but then he reconsidered. Avery had actually bothered to get him a spare outfit. Why? Why trouble himself in that way? Throwing it into Avery's face, wasn't good manners. "Thanks," he whispered eventually, swallowing his pride.

"You're welcome." Brooks took his seat again and smiled a little at seeing Riggs' dumbfounded expression. "I have another question for you though."

Martin no longer knew what to think of these 'debriefing sessions'. They sure as hell differed from military debriefing! "What do you want to know?" Why was he holding on so tight to those clothes? Why did this mean so much to him?

"You were on the phone with Haley when they shot her," Brooks began, closely examining his detective's expression and therefore noticing the walls coming up. Accepting the clothes hadn't been easy on Riggs, but this was even harder on the man. And he got that.

"Yeah, I was," Riggs admitted, disliking where this was heeded.

All right, so Riggs was going to make him work for it. He'd expected that and was well prepared. "Realizing they shot her must have been hard on you. You tried to convince her to stay in that closet and she got out anyway." Riggs didn't say anything, instead, the Texan clawed at the bag. Brooks sighed upon realizing the other man had shut down communication. All walls were up. He shifted forward on his chair and tried to make eye contact, but failed.

"Riggs, this wasn't your fault. You did everything you could to keep her safe. She made her decision and left that closet while you told her to stay put. Haley being dead is not your fault, Don't blame yourself for that." Brooks wished Riggs would make eye contact, but the detective seemingly ignored him. He accepted that, but didn't let that stop him. "You couldn't save her. You were too far away and she chose to leave her shelter. You tried your best. Her death isn't on you. You did everything right. You didn't make any mistakes, do you hear me, Martin?" He used the Texan's first name on purpose, hoping to somehow connect.

Martin hardly registered Avery calling him that. He felt torn. Rationally, he knew Avery was right. Haley should have stayed put and he'd told her so. She'd ignored his advice and had paid the price. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling he'd gotten her killed. "I failed to protect her," escaped him involuntarily. He hadn't meant to let that slip. "Another one I couldn't save."

Brooks drew in a deep, calming breath and nodded in understanding, but not in approval. He got to his feet, walked over to Riggs, and after pulling the chair close, he sat down next to the hurting man. "Martin, you lost your wife in a car crash. You were miles away when it happened. You couldn't have stopped it. Her death, which is truly tragic, isn't on you either. Please, don't feel guilty. It's not yours to carry. It was an accident."

Saying this was important, and Brooks would do so repeatedly, hopefully, in the end, getting through to Riggs. "It wasn't your fault." Martin's facial muscles twitched uncontrollably, revealing the emotional upheaval the other man was in. Brooks wished he could do more. He did his best, but was it enough?

If only he could believe Avery, but he didn't. Miranda's death was on him. Haley… he should have saved her, he blamed himself for her death too, yes. Catching her killer had felt good, but it didn't change the fact that Haley was dead.

"Martin?" Brooks grew increasingly worried, seeing the tears building in those eyes. "It wasn't your fault. You're not to blame," he repeated again.

"If only it was that simple," Martin whispered, feeling ill at ease.

"I know it's difficult to believe, but it's the truth." And somewhere deep down in his heart, Riggs had to know it. But holding on to the pain was easier than admitted having been helpless. Brooks got that.

"Can I go now?" Martin couldn't deal with the tension any longer. He needed out. He needed to get drunk or high, maybe even both. He had to numb this pain.

"Not yet. I want you to finish your paper work first." Brooks didn't want Riggs to be on his own at the moment. It was best to keep the younger man at the precinct where he was among people. Brooks also intended to keep an eye on him.

"Sure, I can do that." Martin avoided all eye contact while getting to his feet and heading for the door. "Night, cap."

"Not for some hours," Brooks hinted as he returned to his own paper work. "Check in with me before you leave," he ordered. He wanted to know what condition his detective was in when leaving work. He didn't want to hear about accidents, bar fights, or drunk driving. If he disliked the condition Riggs was in, he'd act upon it.

"Okay." Martin wasn't sure why Avery acted all concerned, but he wasn't going to create a scene. He quickly left the office, headed for his desk and stuffed the clothes away in the bottom drawer. After collapsing in his chair, he put up his feet and stared at the ceiling. What was Avery's deal? Why was the captain having these conversations with him? He didn't like them one bit. He had to find a way to end them!

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Debriefing Riggs

Episode 5

Spilt milk

*notes à I know Martin Riggs served in Vietnam, but I decided to make it Iraq like they did in the TV series. I also bestowed the rank of lieutenant on him, although I have no idea what rank he had as a Navy SEAL*

This was infuriating! Riggs being elusive drove Brooks insane! He'd been searching for his detective all day and no one could tell him where to find the Texan. Cruz had offered to trace his phone, but that was overkill. Brooks knew Riggs was still about as his truck remained in the parking lot. The ex Navy SEAL was somewhere in the building!

Realizing Riggs wouldn't be found if he didn't want to, Brooks admitted defeat and headed for his office to wrap up today's business. Apologizing had to wait until tomorrow then.

Brooks frowned at finding the door to his office ajar. He wasn't in the habit of doing that and swore he had closed it behind him. So why was it open now? He stepped inside and searched his office for clues. He found his biggest clue on the couch. Riggs had curled up on his side, facing the doorway. The Texan didn't fool him however; he might be resting his eyes, but he was still awake.

It was the last place where'd expected to find his elusive detective, and therefore, probably the number one reason why Riggs had chosen his office to nap.

"Hi, cap," Martin whispered, partly opening his eyes upon hearing someone enter. He had no idea what he was doing here. Coming here was a dumb move in the first place, especially since he'd had too many beers and slightly drunk. Which, he suspected, wouldn't go over well with his captain. Ah hell, he was in trouble anyway, considering that Avery had taken him off the case, but he'd gone after Jackson at any rate. He figured disciplinary measures were next and Avery probably wanted him to hand in his badge and gun. He'd gone against direct orders and his captain couldn't tolerate that.

"How much trouble am I in?" Martin pushed himself upright, leaned his back against the sofa, and smoothed his hair away from his face. Cocking his head, he tried to read his captain's expression, but damn, he'd had drunk too much and it clouded his judgment.

Instead of lecturing his detective, Brooks opted to sit down next to him. "Riggs, are you drunk?" He'd suspected the Texan drank heavily, but hadn't expected him to get drunk at the precinct, even though, technically speaking, it was after hours.

"Had a couple of beers with Murtaugh in honor of closing the case. Just feed me some coffee and I'll sober up quickly." His current state wasn't that much due to the booze, it was mostly mental and emotional exhaustion doing him in. Jackson's case had hit too close to home for him.

"Give me your car keys, Riggs," Brooks raised his hand expectantly. "You're not driving tonight." He didn't want Riggs to end up in an accident. Not after successfully wrapping up that case. They'd butted heads about Jackson and he'd been wrong. He regretted certain decisions he'd made. "Now, Riggs!"

Martin rolled back his eyes, fumbled for the keys and eventually dropped them in the palm of Avery's hand. "And how am I supposed to get home now?" He leered at the older man. "Are you making me walk home?"

"No, you're staying. You can sleep on the couch tonight. It's comfortable. I've done so myself. I even keep a pillow and blankets somewhere." For the time being, he wanted to monitor Riggs. Dealing with Jackson had taken a lot out of the Texan.

Surprised, Martin searched Avery's eyes. Wow, his boss almost seemed worried! "I'm not that drunk. I just had a couple of beers. I can drive home safely."

"You're a cop, Riggs. You need to set a good example. You're staying, so stop arguing." Riggs was going to make this hard on him, Brooks just knew it. "But first, I want to apologize." Riggs' eyes widened and the Texan blankly stared at him. "I was wrong and I'm man enough to admit I made a mistake. I shouldn't have exposed Jackson. You were right when you told me not to hold that press conference, but I didn't listen. You were the only one to believe Jackson and I didn't understand why." He truly regretted not taking Riggs' advice seriously. At the time, they had thought Riggs wasn't rational when it came down to Jackson, but as it turned out the Texan had been right.

Martin hadn't seen that one coming. Avery was actually apologizing to him? Why? Avery was his captain; he didn't have to.

Brooks easily picked up on the other man's confusion and explained, "I thought Jackson had truly snapped. That he lost all sense of reality. I was wrong. I should have trusted your instincts instead. I was wrong to pull you off the case. I'm sorry." Why was he apologizing so elaborately? That hadn't been his intention. But something in Riggs' expression told him it was necessary.

"Don't sweat it, cap. Everything turned out all right. No harm done." Avery had admitted his mistake and Martin easily forgave his captain. He appreciated a man who owned his mistakes.

"No, don't let me off that easy. You should make me work for it." Riggs was way too forgiving. "Things could have ended badly because I went public. You were right. Jackson holed up and Roger almost died because of that. You saved his life."

Martin shrugged, feeling shy. "I couldn't let the man die. He has a family that depends on him." Plus, he'd promised Trish that Roger would come home to her at the end of each day. He took that promise very seriously. "I've seen it all before in Iraq, cap. Those tripwires are tricky, but don't have to be lethal. We quickly figured out how to deal with them."

Which reminded Brooks that he was dealing with a Navy SEAL, a veteran. Riggs had survived the war, that nightmare. Why had a young Martin Riggs signed up in the first place? How had he become a Navy SEAL? It was common knowledge that the selection procedure was extremely hard, designed to root out the weak and challenge the best among the recruits. Maybe he should find out, but not right now. "For what it's worth, I'm happy Roger and you made it back in one piece."

Martin nodded tiredly. "Didn't like being there," escaped him. "Being in Jackson's kill zone brought back memories." Things he'd rather forget about.

Riggs' eyes closed and Brooks realized today had taken a lot out of the Texan. "Why don't you get some sleep? As I said earlier, that couch is surprisingly comfortable." Riggs wasn't leaving his office until he was sober again, which might take several hours. Brooks got to his feet, collected the pillow and blankets, and handed them to a confused-looking Riggs. "Get some rest," he repeated and made for his desk, giving the younger man some breathing space.

Martin followed Avery's movements, but when the captain sat down and stopped paying him attention, he pushed the pillow beneath his head and curled up. He pulled a blanket haphazardly atop of him and closed his eyes. Apparently, he was crashing on the captain's couch tonight. Sure, he could get someone to drive him home, or appropriate another car, but he had the feeling Avery was serious about not letting him go. Getting rest sounded fine and he closed his eyes, burrowing deeper into the comfort of the couch.

Five minutes later, soft snoring coming from the couch told Brooks that Riggs was sound asleep. He gazed at the sleeping man and chuckled at the awkward way Riggs had curled up after seemingly wrestling the blanket into submission. He'd apologized. True, way more elaborate than he'd planned, but he owed Riggs that much.

Like Jackson, Riggs had served their country and had fought overseas. Brooks knew he couldn't even begin to imagine the horrors Riggs must have lived through while fighting in that war and for that, he owed the young man respect. A lot of brave men and women had died defending their country. He tended to forget that, but not anymore.

Needing to find out more, he opened the bottom drawer of his desk and removed the file on Martin Riggs. He'd only scanned it when the lateral transfer had come in. After reading the City Attorney's office had requested the transfer, he'd okayed it without giving it much thought.

Brooks quickly found the section dealing with Riggs' past as a Navy SEAL. Martin had joined the U.S. Army at nineteen and quickly became part of the U.S. Army Special Forces. Apparently, he had served as an assassin under the CIA's Project Phoenix, whatever that was. Details regarding that operation had been omitted. It seemed that Riggs had excelled as a sniper and was rated among the eight best gunmen in the world. Looking at the young man contently snoring on his couch, he realized there was a lot he didn't know about his newest detective. He'd been remiss in the past; he should have read up on the Texan when he'd joined his team. Well, better late than never.

After serving for eight years, he'd been honorably discharged when the Iraq war ended. By then, Riggs was a highly-decorated war hero and earned the rank of lieutenant. He'd eventually joined the police force and El Paso had become his home base.

Brooks placed the file into the bottom drawer and locked it. He leaned back in his chair and considered the man currently asleep on his couch. What had eight years of serving overseas done to Riggs? Not to mention losing his wife and child so recently? He couldn't blame the man for his behavior. It was a miracle Riggs still functioned the way he did.

He briefly closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, and gave in when fatigue sneaked up on him. It was time for him to head home. After getting up from his chair, he walked over to Riggs and properly covered the sleeping man with the blanket that had slipped onto the floor. "Night, lieutenant," he whispered before closing the door behind him.

/

A sore neck woke Martin the next morning. He cringed at the discomfort and manipulated his neck, hoping to ease the tension. Opening his eyes, he frowned, finding himself in strange surroundings. Where the hell was he? He wasn't at his trailer and this wasn't Murtaugh's place either. This was…

Avery's office? Blinking sleepily, he found himself on the man's couch, tucked away beneath a blanket and cradling a pillow to his chest. Wow, this was embarrassing. How had he managed to fall asleep here?

Little by little, he remembered what had happened last night. He'd had some beer, but he'd been far from drunk. Truth be told, the adrenaline rush he'd experienced when he'd jumped off that building had worn off, leaving him temporarily exhausted. He knew better than to drink in that state, but he'd done so anyway.

Jackson continued to haunt him. He told himself to focus and recalled talking to Avery. The other man had told him it was okay to crash on his couch. Fuck, Avery had the keys to his truck! What had possessed him to hand them over?

He pushed the blanket aside and sat upright. Sniffing at himself, he realized he stank. Or, to be exact, his clothes did. He hadn't changed since ending up in that pool. He probably should clean himself up, but he wasn't looking forward to slipping into those dirty clothes again. But wait, he had a spare outfit now. He could take a quick shower and then dress in the outfit Avery had given him. Cringing, he told himself to get his shit back together. It didn't do that his captain had to provide him with clothes. Ah, well, he'd better get moving.

/

Pleasantly surprised, Martin found that the clothes fit. Dressed in black jeans, a green T-shirt and grey shirt, he felt different. Maybe he should pay a bit more attention to his grooming. He stuffed his dirty clothes into a bag; maybe he'd run into a laundry place on his way home.

He grabbed some coffee and headed for his desk, ready to face the day, which was a rare feeling for him. To his surprise, he found Bailey and Cruz already at work. Why did people turn up so fucking early at work?

After stuffing his dirty clothes into a desk drawer, he dedicated himself to his coffee and withstood the temptation of adding booze to it. He didn't want to get into the habit of drinking at work.

"Where's Riggs and what did you do to him?" Roger chuckled at realizing his partner hadn't noticed his arrival. He'd actually managed to sneak up on the guy! A guy, who looked freshly showered and wore decent clothes! A little of grooming did wonders for Riggs' appearance. He'd try to encourage that in his partner. "Looking good this morning!"

"Rog, it's too early for flirting. Let me finish my coffee first." He looked at his partner and wondered about the man's maniacal grin.

"You don't stink for a change and, wait for it, are you wearing new clothes?" Roger knew he shouldn't tease Riggs that early in the morning, but couldn't resist. He'd gladly endure his partner's pestering for the rest of the day if that meant making fun of him now.

"I do shower occasionally," Martin snapped. "And yes, the clothes are new."

"They look good on you!" Brooks said, joining in the verbal bantering as he headed for his office. Seeing Riggs wear the new outfit pleased him. When he'd bought those clothes, he'd been sure Riggs would throw them in the trash after pretending accepting them.

"Stop it, guys! No coming onto me until after I've had my coffee!" Martin smiled shyly, and whispered a thanks at his captain, letting Avery know that he appreciated the gesture.

"Makes me wonder," Brooks said, coming to a hold and wiggling an eyebrow at Riggs. "You must have looked dashing in your dress uniform, lieutenant Riggs!"

That Avery had read up on him didn't surprise or worry Martin. He would have been surprised if his captain hadn't. "Doesn't everyone look good in an uniform?"

"Maybe," Brooks admitted. Still, he wondered if he could get his hands on a picture like that. It might make great blackmail material later and could come in handy one day. "Get to work everyone! We've got bad guys to catch."

"Aye, sir." Marin mockingly saluted his captain. "We're on it."

Brooks smiled when he closed the door to his office behind him. Today was going to be a good one!

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Debriefing Riggs

Episode 7

Fashion Police

"Riggs, where do you think you're going? Let me make it easy for you," Brooks said, gesturing for his detective to follow him. "It's not home. My office, now."

Avery's insisting tone warned Martin that trouble was afoot. He wasn't sure why. They'd closed the case. They'd solved the suitcase killing, had saved Palmer's life when the cartel had wanted to gun her down, and they had caught the hit man. Hell, Avery had even gotten his fifteen minutes of fame when presenting the ninety million to the public. What had his captain left to bitch about? Nothing!

Frustrated, Martin followed Avery into his office, noticing the captain closing the door behind them. Judging by the stern look he got, this was going to be a very unpleasant conversation, but why?

"Take a seat, detective, and no," Brooks stopped Riggs before the man could speak up, "that's not up for discussion. Sit down, Riggs!" He wanted answers and Riggs had better supply them. If he caught the Texan lying, there would be hell to pay!

On guard, Martin sat down. His captain looked seriously pissed off, but he still felt mystified. What had he done wrong? He remained quiet, realizing his captain had to blow off steam before they could have a decent conversation. All of a sudden, he felt like the voice of reason, which almost caused him to chuckle, but he stopped himself just in time. That would only piss off Avery even more.

Brooks picked up the medical report and opened it. "The paramedics found extensive bruising around your wrists and chest. You also had trouble breathing," which Riggs had tried to hide. Reading along, he added, "How they hell did you end up all wet?"

Martin frowned, thinking it best to keep still. "It's all in my report, cap."

"Which you didn't file yet. And I'm guessing that come tomorrow, you'll have forgotten a lot of the stuff you should be putting in it and you'll end up omitting a lot. Or am I wrong?"

That had been the idea, yeah. So Avery was on to him? That urged him to proceed with caution. "It rained that night and I slipped. Ended up in a puddle." Well, that explained him being wet!

"Don't get smart with me, Riggs. It didn't rain. You're lying. Don't pull this bullshit with me. I want the truth. You're not leaving before I know what really happened."

Martin involuntarily cringed. He didn't know Avery this pissed off. He hadn't thought it possible, but his captain was perfectly capable of acting the bad cop part. A part of him was duly impressed; the other frustrated because he'd been backed into a corner.

"Martin," Brooks said, momentarily deflating and giving his detective a worried look. "What happened before you ended up on that street?" On his knees, ready to be executed, but he didn't add that – yet. He only knew that because Roger had updated him.

Martin sighed, rolled his eyes back, and wondered what to do. He had the feeling Avery wouldn't let him off easy this time. In some ways, being debriefed by Avery was way more intense than any session with Cahill, who let him get away with a lot of crap. Avery didn't; he called him on his behavior. "It's nothing special, cap."

Sensing Riggs' surrender, Brooks sat down next to his detective. He maintained eye contact, even though the Texan tried to avert his gaze. After a few seconds, Riggs looked at him again, and he counted that as a win. "Luis Caldera isn't talking, but you will. What did he do? He's a well-known hit man for the cartel and sources say he loves to torture his victims first. What did he do, Martin? And don't give me your usual bullshit."

Riggs blinked, all of a sudden getting what this was about. "You're worried!" Avery gave him the third degree because his captain worried about him! "That's endearing," he joked.

"No distractions, what happened?" Brooks wouldn't let get Riggs away with diffusing this time.

"Cap, don't worry about it! He hogtied me and played a few games. Nothing I couldn't handle." Martin shook his head, amazed that Avery was getting riled up because of something like that.

"He dunked you, didn't he? Tied you up and kept you under water till you threatened to suffocate." Why did these things always happen to Riggs? Was he some sort of trouble magnet? Well, Brooks realized, it was more like Riggs eagerly seeking out the people who might kill him.

Martin never expected his captain to be so shocked. "What? You think that was the first time someone dunked me?" He shook his head, slightly amused by Avery's naivety.

"It wasn't?" That thought honestly hadn't occurred to Brooks yet.

"Cap, I operated in enemy territory for eight years. I've been captured and tortured before. As I said, I could handle what Caldera threw at me. I've been through worse. Dunking isn't that bad, certainly not compared to some of the other stuff."

"I don't want to know," was Brooks gut reaction. He already felt nauseous now that he knew Riggs had been through that before.

"Suit yourself," Martin said, giving in. "Though, the stories I could tell!" Now that they'd moved back to safer ground, he got cocky again.

"Riggs," Brooks started, struggling to find the right words. "I tend to forget you're a veteran." He gave the ex Navy SEAL an apologetic look. "You've so much more history than the other members on the team. I never even considered that you might have been tortured before."

"Well," Riggs said, gloating. "We used to call it interrogation. No need to make a fuss over it," he finished and winked impishly.

Riggs' walls were back up and the ex Navy SEAL easily slipped his mask back on. Brooks hated seeing it. "What happened in the streets? Roger's report said that a gunshot drew his attention and the next thing he saw was you kneeling on the asphalt and Caldera aiming his gun at you."

"Sounds pretty accurate and straight-forward. You know that I get on people's nerves and he wanted to shoot me. Can't blame him. I know I'm obnoxious."

Riggs' comical tone didn't quite match the expression in his eyes, Brooks pondered. The eyes told the real story; the rest was show. If only Riggs would allow him in! But at the moment, the younger man completely shut him out. Well, he had nothing left to lose, so he tried one more time – a different strategy. "You are obnoxious," Brooks agreed, but added a smile as well. "A lot actually, but I'm getting used to it and I prefer you like that. I hate it when you go all silent on me." Being the stern LAPD captain hadn't worked, but maybe showing he was a concerned friend would.

Something about Brooks' tone made Martin incredibly nervous. It was the emotion that accompanied it. Avery wasn't putting on a show. The guy actually cared about him. "I'm a tough guy to kill in general, cap. A lot of people tried and failed."

"Make sure you stick around, Riggs. I can't believe I'm saying this, but LA is a safer city with you in it." Surprised that his tactic had worked, Brooks continued to smile at his detective. "Robbery and Homicide won't be the same without you causing trouble, Riggs." Originally he'd wanted to call his detective on provoking Caldera into killing him, but this wasn't the time for it. It wasn't what Riggs needed; the man needed a friend instead. "You do know that you can talk to me, Martin? I might be your captain, but I would like to be your friend too."

Timidly, Martin searched his boss' gaze and found Avery to be sincere. The man wasn't that good an actor and wouldn't be able to fool him. Avery was serious. Something Cahill had told him earlier echoed in his head. That he should try to connect to the living. That only other people could ease his pain.

And now Avery was offering to be one of them. He wasn't sure he could accept though, as he didn't feel worthy of such consideration. Brooks' questioning look told him he was expected to react to the offer, if possible to accept it. "I know that, cap."

Brooks was under the impression he'd managed to get through to Riggs. He nodded contentedly and opened a desk drawer, removing a bottle of scotch. Normally he didn't drink at the office, but it might help Riggs bond with a him. He poured two small amounts and handed Riggs a glass. The look his detective gave him made him chuckle. "Hey, it's after hours and work's done for today. You earned it."

Pleasantly surprised, Martin sipped instead of just downing it. Now that he felt more relaxed, he recalled that he still had something left to do. "I never thanked you for letting me bunk on your couch that night and for getting me that extra outfit. You didn't have to do that."

Riggs' admission was unexpected, but most welcome. "Hey, I want to help, let me." He wasn't going to make a big deal out of helping out. Trying to lighten the mood a little, he said, "You looked kind of adorable cuddled up on the couch!" Martin laughed and Brooks could tell it was a genuine reaction; warm and with amusement tingling through. The mask was down again. There was no way of telling how long the moment would last though.

"Cap, I don't do adorable!"

But Riggs did, Brooks mused. The Texan might not be aware of said quality though. Brooks finished his drink and moved back to his desk. "If you want to crash on the couch again, you're welcome to stay. Otherwise, I suggest you go home and get some rest." Once the adrenaline wore off, exhaustion would set in.

Martin placed the empty glass onto his captain's desk and nodded. "Thanks," he whispered, rather unsure what he was thanking Avery for. In a weird way, talking to Avery was easier than discussing his problems with Cahill.

"You can thank me by staying alive, Riggs. And now get out. I've got work to do. And don't forget to finish your paperwork tomorrow and remember to include all details, no omissions, as I will check on it."

"Aye, captain," Martin gave in. He'd file a full report in the morning.

"You're dismissed, lieutenant," Brooks said, playing along.

"You pulled my record, didn't you?" Martin wagged an admonishing finger at his captain.

"Yes, I did," Brooks admitted. "I wanted to know just who I was dealing with." Riggs didn't seem to mind though if the young man's expression was anything to go on.

Martin couldn't care less. He'd nothing to hide. His military record was just fine. Hardly any disciplinary issues and several honorable mentions. He was good with Avery checking up on his military career. "So, I'm free to go, cap?"

"Just get out of here, Riggs!" Brooks chuckled and pointed at the door. "I expect to see you at nine in the morning, so get some sleep until then."

Martin caught himself humming on the way out. He wasn't sure how Avery he'd done it, but for the first time in ages he actually felt comfortable in his skin.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Episode 8

Can I get a witness?

"You look worried." Martin walked into Avery's office, but remained at a distance, as he didn't want to infringe on the other man's thoughts. Avery looked pensive and his eyes possessed a pained expression. Seeing it urged him to find out what was wrong with his normally so chipper captain. "Is there anything I do to help?"

Brooks smiled at hearing Riggs' worried tone. The Texan was getting sloppy, letting his emotions show more easily. He knew better than to mention that though. "Everything's fine," he reassured his detective. "Just thinking."

Martin nodded and was about to turn around and leave when Avery addressed him again.

"You had a great report with Ethan. That kid seemed to trust you right after meeting you." Brooks had noticed Ethan bonding with Riggs rather quickly, even in spite of his detective's best efforts to sabotage the boy's efforts. His own attempt to ease Ethan's worries had backfired. It had been different with Riggs though.

Martin arched an eyebrow questioningly. What was this about?

"How did you do that?" What was it about Riggs that had made Ethan trust him?

"Do what?" Martin frowned. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Maybe it was even the truth, Brooks mused. Maybe Riggs didn't know how he'd done that. "Why does Ethan trust you?" Brown eyes narrowed and the Texan suddenly appeared uneasy. Maybe he should stop pushing the matter, but he was genuinely curious.

He'd confided in his boss before, maybe he could do it again? But this was personal, and if he did decide to tell Avery, he didn't want anyone listening in on that conversation, so he closed the door.

Brooks tried, but failed to label the emotion in Riggs' eyes. However, he could tell the Texan was struggling. "You don't have to tell me if that makes you uncomfortable," he reassured the younger man. True, they'd started to build a friendship during these last few weeks, mostly fueled by their little talks, but he realized only too well that Riggs didn't trust easily, and he respected that.

"Kid has had a rough childhood," Martin started hesitantly. "Something like that makes you suspicious. You don't trust people. You expect everyone to lie and manipulate you. Ethan was merely looking out for himself. Don't take it personally." He recalled Avery reaching out to Ethan, trying to show his support. His captain had meant well, but hadn't known how to properly reassure Ethan.

Suddenly another piece of the puzzle that was Riggs moved into place. Perhaps he shouldn't say this, but Brooks did so anyway. "And you had a rough childhood too? Is that what you're saying? You related to the boy because you've been in his position, haven't you? That's why you knew how to reach him and he recognized that in you, didn't he?"

Martin nodded reluctantly. He wasn't going to share his horrible childhood memories, but confirming Avery's suspicions was something he could do. "Yeah, something like that. Look, don't take it personally, I mean it. I'm sure that if you'd had more time you'd have found a way to reach him. You lack the necessary experience," he said, carefully phrasing it in order to soften the possible blow to Avery's ego. "It wasn't about you. Roger freaked Ethan out as well."

"Hum," Brooks mumbled mirthlessly. "Maybe I should talk to Todd."

"About what?" Martin hoped he wasn't overstepping some boundary. He was still trying to figure out this 'relationship' with Avery. They worked together, but were they friends too? He had no idea.

"About adopting a foster child. Maybe I'm not suited for that after all." This case had given him a lot to think about. "We always wanted children, but we're limited to adoption. And I want to help a kid. Todd feels the same way, so we're looking into adoption, but now I'm having second thoughts. I failed miserably at reassuring Ethan. Maybe I'm not cut out for fatherhood after all. What if we do more damage than good?" He hadn't thought of it that way before. They'd been enthusiastic from the start; perhaps they should have considered their parenting skills – or better, lack there off- first.

Avery's speech left Martin cringing. He regretted making his captain doubt himself. Realizing he had to be honest, he hoped he made the right decision to open up. "Cap, I know I seldom come across as a serious guy, but I want you to know I'm serious now." Avery's gaze settled on him and he flinched; his nerves getting the better of him. "You should go ahead and adopt. I mean it. You'll do just fine. Sure, you'll need some time to figure out this dad-thing, but I believe you'll do well. Any kid that gets adopted by you is lucky to have you."

Avery had a hard time believing any of Riggs' speech, but the Texan was serious. This wasn't Riggs being cocky, no, Brooks saw a side to the other man he hadn't seen before, not really. He'd merely caught a glimpse here and there during their little talks. "Do you really believe that?"

Martin nodded. "Yeah, I do. I'm sure that once you get the hang of being a dad, you'll make a great one. I don't know Todd, but I'm sure the two of you will manage."

"Thanks." Avery wasn't sure what was going on, but Martin's defenses were down and the Texan's mask completely gone, which made their conversation real and honest. "Martin, can I ask you something personal? And yeah, you're free to tell me no."

Ill at ease, Martin reluctantly nodded, knowing he couldn't back down now. He had to finish what he'd started.

"Did you spend time in foster care?" It wasn't the question he wanted answered the most, but it was probably the safest one to ask at that moment.

He felt relieved at hearing that particular question, as Martin had expected worse. "Yeah, I did. I was… what, thirteen? when I went into the system. I was sent to a lot of foster homes, but never stayed for long. I wasn't an easy kid."

"For how long did that last?" Riggs opening up to him was something Brooks had hoped for, but never expected. The expression in those brown eyes told him that this was hard on the Texan. Just how many more painful truths would he discover about this man?

"I joined the army at nineteen. Before that I moved from one foster family to another."

So Riggs had been in the foster care system for about six years. Brooks hadn't known that. It did make him wonder what had happened for children services to get involved in the first place. Putting kids into the system was a last resort. How bad had things been at Riggs' home? But he wasn't going to ask the other man that. He wasn't going to trigger that pain, which was clearly still very close to the surface, judging from Riggs' reactions. "You really think I should go ahead anyway?"

"I do," Martin said after thinking it over. "If you can offer a child a safe home, Todd and you should go ahead and do it. There are too many kids who need help. For what it's worth, I think you wanting to do that is amazing. Give it a shot." The kid ending up with Avery would, sooner or later, realize the man was for real.

Brooks moved a little closer and rested a hand on Riggs' shoulder. "Thank you for putting your trust in me. But I do need to think this over first. If I do this, I want to fully commit to it. A child deserves nothing less." And most certainly an abused child entrusted to his care.

"You'll be a great dad," Martin repeated and smiled warmly. Maybe he shouldn't add this next part, but he did at any rate. "If you'd been my foster father, I'd have stuck around. After making your life miserable at first, of course, while testing you." He winked, being completely sincere.

"Thanks again, that means a lot to me." Brooks realized that this was the first time they'd both opened up and something had happened. Something between them had changed. Did he dare say it? Had they started to bond a little?

Martin became aware of the same thing and quickly averted his gaze. He hadn't fully realized that he had let Avery in. The man was quickly becoming a father figure to him and maybe, if someone like Avery had been his foster father, he might have turned out all right. He'd probably have been a better person.

"Want to grab a bite to eat? I know a little restaurant that serves amazing pasta." Brooks doubted Riggs would accept and fully expected to be denied. He had the feeling that the younger man pushed people away the moment they got too close, and he was definitely breaking down the Texan's defenses.

Martin's gut instinct was to say no, but then something made him reconsider. Maybe it was the thought of being all alone at his trailer, or perhaps it was the hope he read in Avery's eyes. Or maybe it was something completely different. Much to his surprise, he found himself nodding and accepting. "Sure, I need to eat anyway." He did his best to ignore the way Avery's smile lit up at having his offer accepted. Well, it was the truth; he did have to eat. And if he was being honest, having companion for a change, would be nice.

Riggs accepting his dinner invitation proved the young man trusted him and Brooks appreciated being given a chance. "My treat, come on, let's go." He picked up his jacket and headed for the door. Looking back, he found Riggs wavered to follow him, but then the man moved.

Trusting Avery was dangerous, but Martin desperately wanted to believe the other man was for real, so Avery got his chance. But Martin had no idea what would happen – how badly damaged their budding friendship would be – if the older man ever betrayed that trust.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Episode 9

Jingle Bell Glock

Note – in the TV-series, Brooks and Riggs do talk at the end of the episode, so I took that as an inspiration, but improvised. The scene as it happened in the series felt a bit lacking for some reason, IMHO.

/

Brooks couldn't shake the feeling that Riggs felt lost when he looked at his detective. The case felt everything but closed – not just to Riggs, but to him as well. There were still a lot of unanswered questions, which haunted the Texan. Tito Flores was already on his way back to Mexico though and thus out of their reach.

He was about to leave for home, but stalled for several reasons. One of them was avoiding his in-laws. Yes, he loved Todd, but his father in law was a different matter. If he ever committed murder, it would be his father in law making him do it. The other reason he was stalling sat at his desk, looking lost and forlorn. How could he leave Riggs at the precinct, knowing the emotional state the man was currently in? "Riggs, why are you still here?"

"Lots of paper work to catch up on, cap, and I'm not good at typing." Martin was stalling. He really didn't want to head home yet and spend Christmas Eve all cooped up at the trailer. It would end badly with him getting drunk and suffering nightmares because of it. So he tried postponing it, even though he knew he had to head home eventually. "By the way, what are you still doing here? Shouldn't you be at home with your family?" Finding out about Avery's overly enthusiastic father in law had made his day. On the other hand, he could perfectly imagine Avery not looking forward to spending his eve with the man.

"Want any help with the paper work? I'm good at it," Brooks offered and draped his jacket across Murtaugh's chair before sitting down. He moved the chair toward Riggs' desk and gave it a cursory look. No breast flask? And surprisingly enough, Riggs seemed sober. That the Texan was keeping it together at this point was impressive. The holidays were rough on everyone, but to Riggs they had to be torture. If his wife's car crash hadn't happened, he would be spending the holidays with Miranda and their baby. Now, he was all alone. Well, maybe not entirely alone. Riggs still had the Murtaughs, and if the other man wanted it, his company too.

"Ah, cap, that's a really nice offer, but you should be at home with your family. Go on." Martin appreciated Avery's offer, it showed the captain really considered him a friend these days. "Now go."

"Why don't you spend the evening at my place? Have dinner, drink a little." Brooks chuckled. "And I mean a little. You can even spend the night or Todd will drive you home. He doesn't drink."

"He doesn't? Sounds boring," Martin said teasingly, but added a wink for good measure. "What man doesn't drink?" He didn't know much about Todd and wasn't trying to pry, as he didn't expect his captain to answer that question.

"A trauma surgeon who watched too many intoxicated drivers brought in, or even worse, the innocent victims they crashed into," Brooks explained patiently. He got that reaction often, but people usually understood once he'd told them about Todd's profession.

"You're dating a trauma surgeon?" Wow, Avery had surprised him. "Sounds like a serious guy!"

"Not really, he just has this thing about drunk driving." Something Riggs had said just now made him laugh though. "Todd and I are way past dating. We've been together for years."

Which made sense, otherwise they wouldn't consider adopting. What didn't make sense was Avery still being here when he could be with his family. "Seriously, cap, you need to head home."

"In a bit." Brooks didn't feel like leaving Riggs on his own yet. "I know you wanted answers from Eddie. Did you at least get them?"

"Nay, he made me believe in things that weren't real." Although, he wasn't sure that was true. In his heart, he wondered if Tito had been honest with him, Something about the way the man had phrased his answer made him uncomfortable. Martin felt like he'd missed something important.

"Well, it's the time of the year for that." Brooks knew he had to go home eventually, and truth be told, he did want to spend Christmas Eve with Todd, but he couldn't leave Riggs on his own. He just couldn't. His detective ignored him and started on his paper work; sending him a very clear message, namely to finally go home.

Before he did that, he needed to know Riggs wouldn't be alone that evening. So he uncovered his phone and texted Roger. He didn't have to wait long to get a reply. Finding out that the Murtaughs would head over to Riggs' trailer later that evening and keep him company, soothed his mind.

Martin figured that ignoring Avery would get the job done, but his captain put his feet up on the desk instead. It didn't seem like he was leaving yet. "What?" he demanded, trying not to let his boss get to him. "Why are you still here?"

"Actually," Brooks started, feeling a bit awkward, but he proceeded anyway. "I got you something for Christmas. It's probably stupid, but I want you to have this." He uncovered a plain, cart board box, maybe five by five centimeters and handed it to Riggs. "I didn't have the time to wrap it," he said, a bit apologetically. Part of the thrill of getting a gift was unwrapping it and he promised himself to make up for it next Christmas – if Riggs lived that long and he hoped the Texan would!

Perplexed, as he hadn't expected getting anything at all, Martin simply stared at the little box. He was about to tell Avery no, when his captain put it in front of him on the desk. Avery gave him a hopeful look and so Martin removed the lid. "A key?" he whispered in surprise.

"To my office, in case you need a place to crash. The couch is comfortable and you know where I keep my pillow and blankets." He wasn't sure why he was doing this, but it felt right. "You can pull down the blinds and no one will know you're in there. Just don't mess with my computer and files," he added on a lighter note.

Martin fought the tears building in his eyes and managed to rein in his emotions. Most of the time Avery's door was open and the office accessible. But it wasn't about that. The gesture itself mattered. Avery telling him that he was welcome in the other man's life did. "You didn't have to do this," he whispered shakily.

"I wanted to." Brooks got to his feet, slipped into his jacket, and headed for the elevators. "Merry Christmas, Martin! I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Merry Christmas, cap." Martin's voice was barely audible though. The gesture had left him shaken. "Thanks," he whispered again, although Avery couldn't hear him anymore. Martin managed a smile and added it to his key ring. He'd probably never use it, but seeing it would remind him that his captain cared.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Episode 10

Homebodies

"You wanted to see me, cap?" Martin still felt a little wobbly, but tried hard to camouflage it. Whatever Owsley had slipped him sure had a long lasting effect. He rested a hand against the wall in order to support himself, as it wouldn't do to end up face first on the floor. Not with Avery giving him that look.

"Riggs, sit down before you collapse!" Roger had warned him that Riggs was in a bad way, but he'd thought his former partner was exaggerating. Seeing the Texan now, he felt Roger had downplayed things. "Are you still drugged?" It certainly looked like it. The pupils were all wrong and Riggs had trouble walking in a straight line. Brooks got up from behind his desk, took the other man's arm, and guided him over to a chair. "Sit down," he repeated his earlier order.

Judging it best to comply, Martin collapsed onto the chair. Damn, it felt good to be off his feet! "Hey, cap, you miss me or something?" Roger had dropped him off at the precinct, which reminded him, he should be helping his partner wrapping up the case!

"Oh no, you're not going anywhere, stay down, Riggs!" Brooks stopped the younger man when he tried to get to his feet and pushed him back into the chair. "That's an order!"

"Aye, sir." Martin responded automatically reverting to his Navy SEAL's days; back when orders had to be followed. He remained seated, wondering what he was doing back with the Navy. He'd been discharged, hadn't he?

Brooks' worries increased seeing Riggs' sluggish reactions. "Why did the paramedics release you? You should be under supervision!" He would alert Cahill so she could check on him. "How long is this drug going to affect you?"

"I have no idea!" Martin admitted when the question finally registered with him. "You got something to drink? I'm thirsty." His mouth was awfully dry and his throat felt like sandpaper.

Brooks opened a bottle of water and handed it to Riggs.

Martin drank eagerly, savoring the way the water eased his achy throat.

Brooks still mulled over the fact that the paramedics had let Riggs go. They'd never do that. Either Riggs had acted like he was fine, or he'd dodged them all together. Brooks tended to lean toward the latter. "Did you even let them check on you?"

"Who?" Martin had a hard time understanding what Avery was talking about.

"The paramedics. Did you let them check on you?" Riggs really taxed his patience here.

"Not necessary," he reassured his boss. "It'll wear down eventually. There's not much they can do anyway." Knowing what they were discussing helped. "I just need to ride it out. Don't sweat it, cap. I've done this before."

Brooks cocked his head. Maybe this was a good time to get Riggs to talk. "By choice or did someone drug you?"

"Both," Martin readily said, not fully realizing what he was admitting too. Focusing was hard! "I smoke a little weed once in a while, but it never has this kick…" He lost track of what he was saying, closed his eyes, and realized he was much too awake to go to sleep.

"Riggs? Martin!" frustrated, Brooks tried to get his detective to focus again. "Come on, stay with me!"

Martin blinked and tried to concentrate on what was going on, but being sluggish made that hard. "Hey, cap! What are you doing here?"

"We're in my office, Martin." Brooks told himself to be lenient. The Texan couldn't help himself and was rather helpless. "You were telling me that someone drugged you before," he reminded the younger man, eager for more information. Hopefully it would help him gain a better understanding where Martin Riggs was concerned.

"Ah yeah." Martin nodded, recalling his boss' earlier question. "Was captured behind enemy lines and they wanted information. I resisted their interrogation methods, so they resorted to drugs instead. Wasn't pleasant – not pleasant at all."

Riggs was raving at this point and Avery placed his hands on the other man's shoulders in an attempt to ground him. "Look at me, Riggs." But his detective didn't respond and so he tried again. "Martin, look at me." This time he succeeded in getting a response, but it wasn't the one he'd expected.

"Ronnie? What are you doing here?" Ronnie was the only one who still called him Martin. What was his father in law doing here and why hadn't he noticed his arrival?

Who the hell was Ronnie? But that didn't matter at the moment. His current priority was ensuring Riggs slept off the effect of Owsley's drugs. "You need to lie down and sleep," he stated as he pulled Riggs to his feet. The ex Navy SEAL was a dead weight though and maneuvering him onto the couch challenging.

In the end, Brooks managed to make Riggs lay down and he lifted his feet onto the couch. He collected a pillow and blanket and watched the Texan snuggle up on the couch, pulling the pillow into his arms and draping the blanket across his head, hiding him from view. "Whatever makes you comfortable," he whispered, amused in spite of everything.

Now that he was off his feet and cozily snuggled up, his brain told him that it was time to shut down. Martin gave in, slowly dozing off into a pleasant slumber.

Brooks was grateful that Riggs hadn't put up a struggle. After making sure that his detective was soundly asleep, he moved back to his desk and started working, all the while keeping one eye on a drugged Riggs.

/

Martin woke to a murderous headache. An incredibly pressure had built behind his temples, and he groaned, groggily waking up. What the hell was wrong with him? He wrapped his arms around his head in an effort to ease the pain, but now the back of his head began to hurt as well. His entire body felt way too heavy and he kept his eyes tightly shut, instinctively knowing light hurt.

"Cahill warned me you might wake up to a migraine and left these. You need to swallow them, can you manage that?" Brooks sat down after pulling a chair up next to the couch and offered Riggs the medication. "Here's more water." The Texan had to be dehydrated.

Blindly reaching for the promised pain killers, Martin managed to locate the pills and quickly downed them with a minimum of water, as drinking made him nauseous. "Fuck," escaped him.

"Yeah, fuck indeed," Brooks muttered, relieved to see Riggs awake again. "You had a rough night." His charge had suffered from several nightmares and had even tried to get to his feet again. It was a good thing he'd stayed to watch over the younger man. Otherwise a sleepwalking Riggs would have gotten himself into trouble again.

Martin sighed in relief when the pressure inside his skull lessened a few minutes later. He waited another couple of minutes before even attempting to open his eyes. Thankfully the blinds were down, shutting out most of the sunlight, otherwise he'd be hurting like hell. Where was he? And why was Avery at his side?

Riggs' confused look told Brooks all he needed to know. "You're at the precinct – my office to be precise. Owsley drugged you and you spent another night on my couch. How are you doing, Riggs?"

"Slowly getting there," Pulling himself together was still too much of an effort and he stayed where he was, leaning against the back of the couch for support and cradling his head in his hands. It was much worse than it had been last night! Compared to this he'd rather have a hangover brought on by drinking heavily! What was in that stuff Owsley had used to drug him with?

Brooks reminded himself to be patient and waited for Riggs to fully wake up. Cruz, who'd appeared at the door to his office, halted, and when Brooks gestured for him to return later, the detective left. Brooks might ask Cruz to drive Riggs home once the Texan was able to get to his feet. "You're taking the day off," he told Riggs. "Go home and get more rest. You're in no condition to work today."

Martin wanted to object, but the moment he raised his head in order to address his captain, stabbing shards of pain pressed into his brain, so he stayed quiet instead and held his head down. "Okay," he mumbled, admitting he wasn't up to his usual game. He couldn't be out in the field like this.

"Drink the rest of that water too," Brooks advised his detective. "And after that, Cruz will drive you home. You're not getting in that truck of yours like this, do you understand?" He spoke softly, as to not aggravate Riggs' headache.

"Yes, understood." Martin slowly opened his eyes, trying to focus on what was happening all around him, but keeping them open was hard. There wasn't much light in here, but it still set off another throb in his skull.

Seeing Riggs had a hard time to stay upright, and even awake, Brooks considered getting Cahill in here, but the doctor had warned him Riggs would have a hard time upon wakening. There was little she could do except from supplying the medication to combat the migraine. "Stay where you are for now."

That was an easy order to follow and Martin was glad Avery was understanding of his condition. He sipped again, but his stomach revolted, so he placed the bottle aside for the moment.

Riggs started to slide down onto his back, and within seconds he was curled up on the couch again, pulling the blanket over his head. Brooks wasn't sure if he was amused or concerned; both probably. Since he couldn't help Riggs at the moment, he got back to work instead, though carefully continuing to monitor his detective.

/

The next time Riggs woke up, he felt much better. The migraine had lessened and had turned into a merely annoying headache. His eyes no longer hurt when he opened them and he felt in control of his body again. Sitting upright was doable and he stretched his legs, after having been cooped up on the couch for so long. Disorientated, he looked about and recognized Avery's office. His captain gave him an amused look and pushed back his chair.

"Finally back among the living, Riggs?" Brooks poured coffee and offered it to the confused-looking man.

Martin wasn't sure about the coffee, but accepted nonetheless and gave it an exploratory sniff. His stomach behaved and he took a sip. To his relief, it went down just fine. "Yeah, man, that drug packs a powerful kick." His abdomen growled, reminding him it had been ages since he'd eaten last.

Brooks expected something like that and collected a sandwich from his desk. "Roger brought these in earlier, thinking you might be hungry."

"Thanks," Martin whispered and slowly munched on the food. This was much better; at least now he was able to function.

"Good!" Pleased that Riggs seemed over the hill, Brooks called in Cruz. The detective had been giving him shifty looks all day, clearly wondering what was going on. "Cruz, step in here, will you?" Cruz' transfer request had surprised him at the time, but after watching their newest addition, he'd quickly seen the hero worship in those dark eyes whenever Riggs was close. He tried to nurture that, since Riggs needed friends and Cruz made the impression he knew what he was getting himself into by befriending the Texan.

"Cap, that's not necessary. I can drive, I'm good." The fog that had clouded his mind for these last few hours had finally lifted.

"Not happening," Brooks corrected him and pointed a finger at his detective. "As I said earlier, you're taking the day off. Go home, rest, grab a shower and sleep some more. You can come in tomorrow, but if I don't like what I'm seeing you're going back home. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Martin chuckled; his captain's reaction amused him. As far as he was concerned, Avery clearly overreacted, but he was willing to let him get away with that.

"Captain?" Cruz stepped into the office and immediately examined Riggs with professional precision. He was no stranger to drugs himself, though these days, he stayed away from them. He'd learned his lesson well. When he'd realized what was going on with the Texan, he'd been disappointed. To come in under the influence and pass out on the captain's couch was unacceptable. But then Avery had told him what had happened; that Riggs had been drugged without knowing it and had still managed to arrest the perpetrators. Cruz had then felt bad for ever doubting Riggs. "What do you need?" he said, addressing Avery.

Brooks smiled at Cruz, recalling how disappointment had changed back to admiration upon learning how Riggs had handled being drugged. He knew he could count on Cruz to keep an eye on the Texan; Cruz wouldn't let Riggs get away with any bullshit. "Make sure Riggs gets home in one piece. Don't let him drive! Don't let him bully you into allowing him back to work either. You have one mission only," Brooks said, truly enjoying himself, "to get Riggs home in one piece and to make sure he stays there. If necessary, tuck him in and sit on him!" Turning toward Riggs, he added, "Your truck stays here for the moment. I'll have someone pick you up tomorrow. You're in no condition to drive!"

Admitting that truth to himself was hard, but Martin nodded. Avery was right; he couldn't deny that. Getting to his feet took effort, but once he was vertical, he found he was steadier on his feet than expected. "Yes, dad, will do," he whispered, more to himself than anything else.

However, Brooks picked up on it and recalled one of their prior conversations about adoption. Todd and he had eventually decided against it, as their absurd working hours had complicated the adoption process, but hearing Riggs call him that, even in jest, touched him. "Get going, Martin."

Martin nodded carefully and headed for Cruz, who seemed ready to step in the moment he swayed. The younger man's concern was unexpected and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. He kept his head down as they left the precinct and headed for the parking lot.

Now that the ordeal was over, Martin suddenly realized that Avery had stayed with him throughout the night. His captain could have gone home instead. He really should thank the older man the next time they talked. Avery had supported him when he'd needed a friend – or maybe even father figure. He was beginning to trust his captain, which scared him, but what choice did he have?

Cruz thankfully stayed quiet and once seated in the car, Martin lost his fight to stay awake and slipped back into sleep. This time, the nightmares left him alone.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Episode 11

Lawmen

This time, it was Martin who sought out his captain because he was worried. Normally, it was the other way around. He knocked, uncertain Avery wanted company. Ever since his boss had confided in Murtaugh about Scarelli, Avery's behavior had been off. Until recently, Martin hadn't realized just how much he relied on the older man to keep him on the straight and narrow. And so he worried about Avery. "Do you want to be alone or…?"

Brooks managed a smile and nodded. "You can come in, Riggs." The last time the Texan had dropped in, he'd told the younger man about framing Scarelli and they'd shared some scotch. Back then, he'd wondered about Riggs' mellow reaction. Actually, he still did. "Another scotch then?"

"Sure!" Martin eagerly accepted. Avery put two glasses onto his desk and poured a small amount. After handing a glass to Riggs, he sipped from his own. "So how are things between Roger and you?" He wasn't sure where the two men stood.

"We talked," Brooks admitted, studying Riggs' expression. The Texan seemed curious, worried even! "I doubt he'll ever forgive me, but we're okay."

"That's good to hear." Martin worried about the two of them, and if the former partners were still friends. "Do you still have plans to resign?" He hoped not; he needed Avery in his life, even though he'd never admit to that aloud. He also doubted another captain would allow him to stay on the team – not with his behavior.

"No, I won't resign. I talked that one over with Roger too. I'll stay and do my job. I want to make this city safer. That's why I became a cop in the first place."

Knowing Roger the way he did, Martin suspected Murtaugh had come down hard on Avery and the older man didn't deserve that. At times, his partner's holier than thou attitude frustrated him. "You did what you had to do. Don't beat yourself up about Scarelli. The scumbag deserved it."

Brooks appreciated Riggs' effort to reassure him and it made him open up. "I don't know why I told you first," he mused aloud. "Roger should have been the first to hear it, but I told you instead." And he wondered why.

Martin however got it. "With Rog a lot is black and white," he explained. "You're guilty or innocent. You did it or you didn't do it." He shrugged and downed the last of the scotch. "In my experience life is far from being black and white. It's not good versus evil. There's a grey area a lot of people are uncomfortable with. I live there," he said and grinned apologetically. "Sometimes you need to bend the rules to prevent worse. That's how it works."

Finally Brooks understood why he'd confided in Riggs first. He'd known the Texan would understand why he'd done it. The younger man knew life consisted of numerous shades of grey and Riggs probably walked a thin line too. That was how the ex Navy SEAL often got his man. "That's it," he mused aloud.

"What's what, cap?" Martin set his glass aside, shifted forward on his chair and watched his captain closely. Avery seemed preoccupied.

"You understand that a lot of times things aren't black or white. You know there's a grey area too. Roger doesn't see things that way."

"Roger hasn't been in your position before, nor in mine." Martin found it strange that their roles were suddenly reversed. Usually it was Avery talking sense into him, now he was doing the same thing for his captain. "You knew a murderer and rapist would be back on the streets again because of some compromised DNA. You didn't want more children to suffer, or get killed, so you helped getting Scarelli convicted. I understand why you did that. I might have done the same thing had I been in your position. In the end, making sure he's off the streets and those kids safe is what matters."

While savoring his last sip of scotch, Brooks finally calmed down. He'd made a mistake, he knew that, but he'd done it for the greater good. "Did you ever do something similar?" He instantly regretting putting that question to Riggs, as he didn't want to drag up unpleasant memories. "Sorry, I –"

"Don't worry about it, cap," Martin said reassuringly. "I bend the rules all the time in order to get the bad guys off the streets. I tell myself that's okay, and most days, I believe that. In the end, you have to decide what matters most; allowing a killer to get away or bending the rules and making sure he goes to prison. It has always been an easy choice for me," he admitted, recalling all the times he'd operated outside of the law.

Brooks understood the point Riggs made, but he still hadn't forgiven himself for framing Scarelli. "I still regret framing him," he confessed, surprising himself. He'd told Roger so, but for some reason telling Riggs was important too.

"That's because you have an oversized conscience, cap!" Martin chuckled and nodded at his boss. "And that's a good thing, considering you're a LAPD captain – you need one. But you also need to shut it up at times. I hate to break it to you, but you're not perfect, neither am I. We make mistakes, we all do, that's life. But you need to forgive yourself and to move on. Scarelli deserved to go to prison. If that DNA hadn't been contaminated, he'd served time too." Compared to some of the things he'd done, Avery's transgression was minor.

Brooks poured them another small amount. Riggs grinned appreciatively and quickly collected his glass again. It was time to change their subject, as Brooks needed time and privacy to deal with past mistakes, so he opted for some humor. "I specifically told you to handle the matter delicately and what do you do? You wreck a house!" Riggs steering that car through the window had nearly given him a heart attack. Not because of the bills heading LAPD's way, but because he hadn't expected it. In hindsight, he realized he should have, after all, this was Riggs!

"Well, it's called taking advantage of the moment, cap!" Martin enjoyed another taste of superb scotch. "And it worked!"

"And you arrested Barton." Brooks knew how Barton had pestered Riggs. "He was badly bruised though. You had to beat him up, didn't you?" At least he suspected that had happened.

"He kidnapped you," Martin stated in a firm tone. "He set Scarelli up to kill you and he was stupid enough to fire all his rounds before I got to him. He made it too easy, cap. But, I was fair! I only used my fists – and feet," he added cheekily. "The poor guy never stood a chance." Martin tried to tone it down, but he enjoyed himself too much. "You don't piss off a Navy SEAL."

Brooks nodded in understanding. "Once a SEAL, always a SEAL?"

"Of course. We take care of our own." The moment Barton had gone after Avery his fate had been sealed. "He got off way too easy," he regretted he hadn't done more damage.

Being honest, Brooks had to admit that Riggs going all protective on him wasn't surprising. He should have seen it coming. He shuddered to think of what Riggs' reaction would have been if Scarelli had managed to kill him. Not even Roger would have been able to keep Riggs from committing murder.

"Well, thanks for the scotch." Martin got to his feet, and after studying Avery for a moment, realized the older man was okay. This time, talking over the case had mostly benefitted Avery and he was happy he'd been able to help. "You okay now?" he asked, just to make sure.

"Yeah, I feel better," Brooks said, realizing it was the truth. "Thanks, Martin."

"You're welcome. Glad I could help." Doubtlessly, the next time Avery would serve as the voice of reason again. "Night, cap."

"Night, Martin."

Martin closed the door behind him and smiled secretly. Being able to help Avery made him feel good. He really liked this – whatever this was – becoming a two way thing.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Episode 12

Brotherly Love

"So tell me. What the hell possessed you to handcuff yourself to the steering wheel?" He'd already officially lectured both of them, but had quickly dismissed Murtaugh, as he worried about his friend's heart condition. Riggs however, was a different matter. The reasons he worried about that man multiplied by the day.

"Cap, we had to make it look real! Angelo had to believe I was a crooked cop and that Dino used me to bust out the drugs." Martin had envied Roger when Avery had told him to get some rest. Then his captain had told him he wasn't dismissed yet. By then, he'd known what was coming - again.

"You need to stop overreacting," Martin told his captain in no uncertain terms. "You can't come down on me each time I do something you dislike. I'm a cop and drug busts are part of the deal!" Avery's concern was way out of proportion in his opinion.

"Handcuffing yourself to a wheel isn't part of a normal drug bust, Riggs!" Brooks was furious. After all these talks, he'd thought he'd gotten through to the Texan, but he'd been wrong. "And then, you lose the key and end up almost drowning!" At least, this time Riggs had put all the details in his report, but only after Murtaugh had edited Riggs' very brief report, forcing the Texan to rewrite the piece. Otherwise he would have omitted certain events again, Brooks was sure of that.

"I didn't drown, or almost drown! It wasn't as dramatic as you make it sound!" Martin was getting fed up with his captain's behavior. "I freed myself! I'm sitting here now, aren't I?" What was Avery getting riled up about? "Everything worked out fine! We got you Angelo, didn't we? He's finally off your bucket list, and I stand by what I said earlier; it's a sad bucket list. You need to work on that."

"You know what I'll never put on my bucket list? Attending your funeral, Riggs!" Brooks got to his feet and paced, letting off steam. "Is that what you're trying to achieve here? Make me bury you? When will you get it into that stubborn head of yours that stunts like that will get you killed?"

Martin cringed, once more reminding himself that Avery acted this way because the other man cared for him. "It's part of the job," he protested weakly, but yeah, he was reckless and his devil may care attitude frequently got him into danger.

"Handcuffing yourself to a fucking steering wheel isn't!" Avery ignored the attention their conversation drew now that he was practically shouting at Riggs, but he had to get through to the Texan. He really didn't want to bury Riggs because some stupid action had backfired! "Stop pulling stunts like that and we can stop having these conversations. But as long as you keep doing things like that, I'll call you on it!"

"Avery…" Martin whispered pleadingly while raising his hands in the hope to appease the older man.

"It's either captain or Brooks, don't Avery me!" He turned his back on his detective and glared at the wall. He had to calm down and counted to ten backwards, but it didn't work. His anger remained. He didn't want Riggs to die while under his command. He refused to bury the younger man; he had to keep him alive instead.

"Brooks," Martin said, once more trying to reassure his captain, "I honestly had no idea I would lose that key. I was already unlocking the handcuffs when I lost it. Please, I didn't do it on purpose. It was an accident." He read a lot of tension in the way his captain carried himself and realized more reassurance was necessary. Why was Avery making it this hard? Damn, he didn't want to do this. "Brooks?" he tried again.

Noticing a special tone to Riggs' voice, he turned around and stared at the Texan. "This had better be good." He knew Riggs didn't pull stunts like that on purpose, but these death-defying acts got on his nerves, which were already fragile where this pig-headed Texan were concerned.

"For what it's worth… I didn't want to drown. I could have given up, but I didn't. I swam to the surface instead of…" Instead of diving after his wedding ring. Last night he'd chosen life and he had no idea why. He'd finally gotten his wish; if he'd stopped struggling, he'd have drowned and he'd be dead now. He still didn't know what had made him fight. For some reason, he'd realized he had unfinished business, or maybe he'd found something to live for. He had no idea himself, which worried him.

"Martin," Brooks tried catching Riggs' attention as the other man seemed mesmerized. "I'm glad you made that decision."

Martin shrugged. "Don't know why I did." Why had he chosen life when his wish had finally been granted? Maybe a huge part of the reason why stood in front of him and looked at him with worried eyes. Fuck, when had he started to care about his captain?

"It really doesn't matter," Brooks said, trying to do away with the rising tension between them. He didn't know what was happening, but something was going on with Riggs; that much was obvious. The Texan seemed shocked.

"I'll try to be more careful," Martin promised, as he didn't want Avery to worry about him. Fuck, what was going on? Why did he care about his boss' feelings?

"Good, remember that promise, Martin. Now, if you don't mind, I need to get back to work." Brooks ended their conversation for a reason; he had the distinct impression Riggs needed time to think.

"Yeah, of course, cap." Lost in thought, Martin headed for the doorway. He was in the middle of an epiphany and had no idea what to make of it. His father, Nathan Riggs, was an abusive bastard, and yet, as a boy, he'd loved the man. Nathan had never returned that sentiment and had preferred to beat the crap out of him instead, had even tried to kill him one night. He shook his head; if only the confused thoughts and feelings would start to make sense!

Before stepping out of the office, Martin looked at Avery from over his shoulder. He'd never had a caring father figure in his life. Nathan Riggs was the exact opposite of what a loving father should be like, but Avery… He couldn't help but wonder if the captain worried about him like a father would about a son.

And that, was a scary thought.

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

Episode 13

The seal is broken

Note – I reckon this is where I get off the beaten track. I'll follow the episodes loosely, but add my own view of the matter, so expect things to happen slightly different from this point out. So AU!

/

Brooks warmed his hands by cradling his mug filled with coffee, wondering how he'd ended up in this situation in the first place. Thinking back to how it had all started, he sipped and then closed his eyes in remembrance.

/

Finding that Ronnie Delgado, the City Attorney and his boss, was waiting for him in his office worried him. To his knowledge, there hadn't been any incidents that warranted his boss' presence so he never expected a visit.

Well, it was best to tackle the matter right away. An impatient Ronnie Delgado who had been kept waiting would even be more unpleasant to deal with. After drawing in a deep, steadying breath, he opened the door and moved toward Ronnie. "Mister City Attorney in the house. What a rare, unexpected treat."

" I just thought I skipped in," Ronnie said, eager to get started.

"Awesome, we got a grizzly one, you're here to scrub in?" Brooks wished he knew what this was about. For some reason he felt extremely uneasy.

Ronnie shook Brooks' hand, but then got down to business. "I have concerns," he said, warning Brooks this wasn't a social visit at all.

Martin hadn't returned any of his calls, ignored his text messages and hadn't been there when they'd marked Miranda's passing last Friday. He'd expected her husband to be there, but should have known better.

Truth be told, Ronnie greatly worried about Martin. His son in law's grief wasn't lessening. If anything it was getting worse, if the rumors he'd heard were true. It seemed Martin's drunk days easily outnumbered his sober ones. Martin didn't deserve to suffer like that. Coming here was his last resort. Marty hadn't given him much of a choice; so he'd headed for the precinct to call his son in law on his behavior in person!

"Never a great opening," Brooks remarked, telling himself to act with caution as long as he didn't know what this was about.

"Martin Riggs, how is he doing?" The rumors Ronnie had heard worried him, and at least here in the precinct Martin couldn't avoid him.

Brooks had expected to be questioned about many things, from money to legal issues, but the City Attorney coming to his office to personally inquire about Martin Riggs wasn't one of them. He quickly composed himself. "Riggs? He's doing well. Adjusting to the culture. He should be here any minute and you can ask him yourself."

From the corner of his eye Brooks caught Riggs and Murtaugh exit the elevator. While trying to think of a way to distract Ronnie, he watched Riggs, who hastily made a beeline the exact moment the Texan caught sight of the City Attorney. A second later, Riggs had disappeared. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Judging by the other man's appearance Martin had a rough night and Ronnie would give him the third degree should he get hold of Riggs. He quickly gestured for Roger to join him as he needed help diffusing the situation.

"I intend to! But I want to hear from you first. Making sure there aren't any issues I should have heard about already." Ronnie followed the direction of Brooks' stare and recognized Murtaugh, whom the captain had teamed Riggs with. Maybe now he would finally get some answers! He loved his son in law and wished Marty finally accepted his support, instead of ignoring him.

"None, none that I can think of, of the top of my head." Damage control was the only thing currently on Brooks' mind. Roger would cover for Riggs and he himself would do his best to distract the City Attorney. Sure, Riggs had wrecked a lot of cars and buildings, and costs had probably skyrocketed, but Ronnie checking on a detective in person just didn't make sense!

Roger entered the captain's office and recognized his former partner's tell tale signs of acute stress. Whatever was going on, Avery needed backup! Not to worry, he had his captain's back. Delgado's probing gaze immediately sought him out and he mentally prepared himself for the worst.

"Roger, you know Ronnie Delgado? He's got some concerns about your partner, Riggs. I was hoping you could…" Brooks hoped his former partner got the message and played along, covering for Riggs.

"What, because he wore shorts today?" No way the City Attorney knew about that! He quickly exchanged a worried look with Avery. What the hell?

"Shorts? Ronnie blinked; why would Martin wear shorts to work and why was Murtaugh bringing it up? To confuse him, maybe? Brooks had already covered for Riggs and now Murtaugh had joined in the game.

"Roger, maybe you can tell the City Attorney how well your partner is doing." Why had Roger brought up Riggs wearing shorts? What part of damage control didn't his friend get? They had to get Delgado off Riggs' back!

"Is he drinking? Behaving erratically?" Ronnie put on a little pressure. He knew about Martin's drinking problem, as it had reared its ugly head a few weeks after Miranda's funeral. Anna and he had reached out, but Martin had distanced himself. Next had been the call from the hospital, informing him that Martin had taken sleeping pills, fortunately too few to make it an overdose. They'd pumped his stomach and Ronnie had picked up his son in law from the hospital. He'd insisted Martin stayed with him, but the Texan had adamantly refused, forcing him to give in eventually.

Roger laughed, having a hard time hiding his nervousness. He couldn't lie to the City Attorney, so he tried a diversion. "Riggs, drinking? Uhm, I don't know what he does after hours, but you're asking is he drinking during the day? Is what you're asking?"

"Where is he?" Ronnie realized by now that they weren't honest with him. He could tell they were covering for Martin, which didn't surprise him. He knew about his son in law's charm. His entire family had been smitten with the Texan starting the day Miranda had introduced them to him. He'd fallen victim to that charm himself, instantly adopting Martin and loving him like a son.

"He's probably doing paperwork. He loves paperwork," Roger tried, hoping Delgado wasn't going to continue questioning him. He really was a bad liar, even Trish said so and she was an expert!

"I'm gonna see if I can find him," Ronnie announced, realizing this wouldn't get him anywhere. He had to hunt down Martin himself.

He'd stick around the precinct until he finally found his elusive son in law.

"You do that. Good idea!" After Delgado exited the office, Brooks failed to hide his concern when he made eye contact with Roger. "Be honest, is he getting worse?"

Roger helplessly raised his arms. "I don't know, it's Riggs! One minute I think he's doing better and the next he has me jumping off a skyscraper and into a pool!" But he had his partner's back. It didn't matter why Delgado was on Riggs' trail, he would cover for the Texan.

"So you say worse, he's getting worse," Brooks mused, feeling rather helpless. At first, he'd thought Ronnie showing up in person was about money. Murtaugh and Riggs wrecked a lot of stuff and someone needed to pay up, but that didn't make sense. Why would the City Attorney look into such a matter himself?

Also, Brooks had gotten the impression that this was a personal matter. Ronnie had used Riggs' first name. That the City Attorney even knew it was amazing! Why would Delgado bother to find out? No, there was more to this than met the eye.

"What I'm saying is that I'm too busy to stay alive to crack the mystery of the shorts-wearing detective." Riggs was trying on good days, he was exhausting when he had a bad one.

Brooks nodded and recalled that Riggs had caught sight of Delgado before the City Attorney had seen him and had quickly walked away. And that was another puzzling piece. Riggs had recognized Delgado at once. Most cops knew Ronnie Delgado by name, but not necessarily by face. Maybe Riggs had seen Delgado in the papers or on TV, but still, it had only taken the Texan a fraction of a second to identify Delgado. It was almost like Riggs knew Delgado, maybe even personally.

"Fair enough," he said, addressing Roger, "but now that Delgado has his eyes on him, remember that I put you two together so you could lift Riggs up and not so that…" He had the uneasy feeling he was missing something. Something Riggs might have let slip during one of their little talks, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"He would bring me down?" Roger knew that and nodded reluctantly. He'd try.

After Roger had left his office, Brooks returned to his desk. He had no idea yet how, but he'd solve this damn puzzle!

/

Waiting for Riggs to get back from his current case, Brooks poured more coffee, Damn, he needed the caffeine. So much had happened since Ronnie had turned up at his office to inquire about Riggs. If only he'd known back then what he knew now.

/

The fact that he practically lived on coffee these days should worry him. It worried Todd. His lover had urged him to take better care of himself instead of running himself rugged. But life at the precinct was like that; unpredictable and stressful. He caught Riggs rounding a corner, heading for the break room. Seeing Riggs reminded him that he wanted to ask the Texan about Delgado. He was about to enter the break room when Ronnie's voice stopped him dead in his tracks. He hadn't realized the City Attorney was still at the precinct!

"Marty, I heard I might find you here."

Marty? Ronnie Delgado, LA's City Attorney, called Riggs Marty? What was that about?

"Ah, it's almost never true," was Riggs' hesitant comeback.

Two cops who had been about to enter, suddenly realized the City Attorney was already in there.

"We're gonna need the room for a few minutes," Ronnie told the uniformed cops, who quickly vanished again.

"You know, I've got to go too," Riggs said and quickly tried fleeing the room.

"You take a minute, for me!" Ronnie said demandingly; his tone leaving no room for discussion.

Brooks pressed against the wall. He felt guilty for eavesdropping, but his curiosity got the better of him. Moving another inch allowed him to peek into the room without revealing his cover. Riggs was tense and ready to bolt. Ronnie, on the other hand, gearing up for a confrontation; he'd seen that look before. He was tempted to come to Riggs' rescue, but then reconsidered. This might be his only chance to find out what was going on between the two men. This was on them for keeping him in the dark! He hated that.

"We missed you Friday night. The Catholic church gives a grieving spouse a year and a day to mourn a loved one. I know you're not a religious man, but…."

Brooks frowned, thoroughly confused. Apparently Riggs had been expected to attend a family gathering at the Delgado household. What business did Riggs have there?

"Friday was a year and a day…" Riggs whispered shakily.

"That's why I picked the date, because Anna and I knew this first one was going to be difficult. But we wanted to mark it, to remember Miranda… with family, with friends. Everyone she loved."

Miranda? Brooks knew that name. Ronnie's daughter, who had died in a car crash about a year ago, had been called Miranda. He could very well imagine Ronnie organizing a memorial to remember her by, but why would Riggs be invited?

"You were her husband," Ronnie said compassionately.

"I still am," came Riggs' soft, but determined reply.

Brooks had a hard time believing the things he heard. Martin Riggs had been married to Miranda Delgado? It was the only logical conclusion he could possibly reach. Which made Delgado Riggs' father in law. Suddenly everything made sense. Ronnie putting in the transfer request after his daughter's death. Brooks knew Miranda's last resting place was in LA. He'd wanted to attend the funeral, but work had kept him extremely busy that day.

It also explained Ronnie's calls in the beginning when Riggs had just started working with them. Again, he'd falsely assumed Riggs had drawn the City Attorney's attention because of the huge damage LAPD had to compensate for, but now he realized Ronnie had wanted to know if his son in law was okay. Those calls had stopped after Riggs had assured him that he knew how to handle Ronnie Delgado!

He'd missed so many clues! Back then, he hadn't even wondered why Riggs knew the City Attorney's first name or why he'd use it. He hadn't noticed the familiarity Riggs had displayed even back then. And he called himself a detective? He no longer deserved that title! He'd been so easily fooled! Shame on him for allowing that to happen!

"What were you doing Friday night that you couldn't make it?"

The pain in Ronnie's voice was audible and Brooks easily made out the sorrow on the older man's face. Riggs however, seemed shell shocked. He'd never seen that particular expression before. His emotions were all over his face, unable to hide a thing. Ronnie and Martin Riggs had to be close, Brooks mused. Of course they were, he corrected himself, they were father and son in law, he kept forgetting that!

"Ronnie," Riggs started in a shaky tone. "I was in no shape to be around people."

Admitting that must have been hard on the Texan. Brooks knew Riggs well enough to know such an admission didn't come easily.

"From what I've heard you're in no condition a lot."

Ronnie's voice hid nothing; the older man was clearly worried. Frustration at being kept at a distance showed on his face. Brooks perfectly related to that sentiment. Riggs frustrated him on a daily basis too!

Riggs' expression changed yet again and Brooks had a hard time keeping up with identifying all those emotions. It was shame, despair, self-hatred and sorrow all wrapped up into one. He told himself to remain still and not draw their attention. Realizing they had an audience wouldn't go over well with either man.

"Ronnie, listen…" Riggs whispered, unable to finish what he'd wanted to say.

The pain in the Texan's voice was hard to bear, and it had to be much harder on Ronnie, who shared a painful history with Riggs. Brooks knew he should use the opportunity to discreetly remove himself from the situation before they found out about him, but he remained motionless instead. He needed to hear the rest as well.

"Marty, if you want to be a drunk, be a drunk." Fed up with Martin averting his gaze, he placed his hands on his son in law's face and turned it toward him. Martin had to look at him now, had to finally face him, and Ronnie hated adding to the pain Martin was already in, but he had to do this. "But I won't allow you to blame my daughter for it."

Defeat, pain, anger, self-loathing, it all showed on Riggs' face and Brooks nearly moved in order to support the younger man, but he stopped himself just in time. Not yet. Not now, not here. He continued to watch though as Ronnie marched of the break room. Thankfully the older man was too lost in thought to notice him standing there.

Relieved, Brooks let go of the breath he'd involuntarily been holding. He cringed at finding Riggs' eyes tearing up. They glistered, and a moment later, tears slid down his face. This was too personal, even for him, and Brooks quickly turned away, giving the hurting man some privacy.

He hadn't wanted to find out the truth like that, and he hated the fact that he'd eavesdropped, but on the other hand, at least now he knew what demons haunted Riggs and maybe, just maybe, he could help.

/

Brooks watched Roger leave and then closed the file he'd been reading. Hearing Riggs had punched Roger because Murtaugh had tried to save him didn't surprise him. After everything he'd recently found out, Riggs demanding Roger let go made perfect sense. He knew he had to talk to the ex Navy SEAL, but not at the precinct. This wasn't going to be one of their usual chats. This would be a serious conversation and he didn't want witnesses. He'd head for Riggs' trailer later that evening.

During the day, he tried pretending he hadn't overheard that conversation, but each time Riggs gazed at him, Brooks looked away. He felt too damn guilty to look Riggs in the eye. He had to be honest and admit what happened, regardless of how furious Riggs might be. His guilty conscience wouldn't let him pretend any more. He had to get this off his chest.

/

Roger had warned him to check if Riggs was decent before stepping into the trailer, which was the very reason why he knocked and called out, "Riggs, can we talk?" He knew the other man was at home, as the truck was parked close.

Brooks hadn't been here before and he realized he should have checked on his detective's living conditions earlier, especially knowing how emotionally vulnerable the Texan was. The trailer didn't really make an acceptable home in his opinion. Not getting an answer, he tried again, "Martin, are you decent cause I 'm coming in there!"

Martin cursed loudly and hid most of the empty bottles from view. His captain turning up at the trailer completely surprised him. The door opened and he turned around, putting on his most charming smile. "Hey cap! Fancy meeting you here! Do you come here often?" His conversation with Ronnie had left him unsettled. He'd tried severing all remaining ties, but something told him Ronnie might not be willing to give up on him yet. When he'd left that bar, Ronnie had given him that certain look, which usually meant he was in trouble. Avery now visiting thus threw him more than it normally would.

"Quite charming," Brooks said as he looked about. It wasn't as bad as he'd thought. It was a typical bachelor pad and if he was honest, he'd expected a lot worse.

"Hey cap, what brings you here? I didn't know you were coming, or I would have cleaned the place, made coffee, baked a cake," he joked, trying to cover up his embarrassment. But here was where he felt safe, surrounded by the past and items that still connected him to Miranda. Having Avery here though, unbalanced him.

"I want to talk to you. If the time's not right, I can come back another day." Brooks hadn't thought it possible, but he was nervous. He'd felt like that when he'd confessed to Roger about the Scarelli case.

Talk? Martin's instincts kicked in, telling him he was in trouble. Avery being this cautious couldn't possibly be good. "What about?" he asked, before telling his captain if he was okay with it.

Brooks sighed and plunged ahead. It was best to get this over with. "I bent the rules a little, and my conscience is killing me – again. I need to tell you something."

Bad, this was bad! Martin wondered if there was a way out, but Avery looked miserable and he didn't want to send his captain packing when he was in such a bad way. "What did you do?" He would probably regret this, but he didn't want Avery to feel dejected either.

"I overheard your conversation with Ronnie Delgado in the break room," Brooks confessed, feeling immensely relieved to get it off his chest. "I was getting coffee and continued to listen when I should have walked away." He easily identified the shock in Riggs' eyes. "I'm sorry about that."

Martin stared at Avery in alarm. "You heard us talk?" What had they discussed in the break room? How much trouble was he in? Avery nodded and Martin desperately tried to recall what Ronnie and he had talked about. "Does Ronnie know?"

"No, he doesn't." It had happened only yesterday and he hadn't talked to the City Attorney yet. "I want to apologize, as I had no business listening in on a private conversation."

Martin mentally replayed said conversation in his head and wasn't that bothered. Ronnie hadn't said anything earth-shattering. "Don't worry about it. Things like that happen," he said, dismissing Avery's obvious discomfort.

"You let me off the hook that easily again?" Brooks stared at Riggs in disbelief. "It was a private conversation!"

Martin shrugged. "I didn't want you to know about Ronnie being my father in law. I didn't want you, or the rest, to treat me any different. Now that the cat's out of the bag… well, shit happens."

"That's what you worry about? About being favored over others?" Riggs surprised him.

"What do you want me to say? I never bothered telling anyone, that's true. Hell, Miranda's death was in most newspapers. Ronnie even went public with an official statement. I'm sure that if you look closely enough you'll find pictures of us attending the funeral. It's not like I can keep this a secret. I just don't want people to treat me differently because I'm related to the City Attorney, as that's all they'll see."

Realizing he was a bad host, he gestured for Avery to sit down on the couch. "I have coffee if you want some." He'd just started cleaning the trailer and getting rid of the booze. He'd even gotten some groceries. After his little talk with Ronnie at the bar, he'd decided to clean up his act.

"No coffee for me. These days I function on caffeine alone and I need to cut down." Brooks collapsed on the couch. He'd worried about Riggs' reaction, but he'd never expected him to react this mellow.

"I don't do tea," Martin said, while reviewing his options. "I just bought OJ, want some?"

"Sure," Brooks whispered, his nerves settling down at last. He examined the trailer and his gaze fastened on the picture on the table next to him. "Is that Miranda?" She looked familiar.

"Yeah," Martin confirmed, growing nervous now that Avery was getting personal. "That picture was taken on Christmas Morning. I'd just found out that she was pregnant and I'd given her that necklace as a Christmas present." Recalling details was hard these days. Time was a harsh master, taking away those little things that he'd loved about her. Like he'd told Ronnie, he was forgetting a lot, and it scared him – scared him enough into quitting drinking.

Seeing Riggs here, surrounded by fragments of his past and hurting so much, Brooks regretted not having been a better friend. He'd failed to realize the depths of Riggs' pain. "Thanks," he said as he took hold of the OJ. Riggs sat down in his chair and seemed lost.

"Hopefully this doesn't change anything," Martin said, voicing his main concern. "Don't treat me any differently. I depend on you to call me on my bullshit and to kick my ass if necessary."

Something definitely had changed, but Brooks wasn't sure what that was. "Don't worry, I have no favorites, even if they're related to the City Attorney. Give me some credit, Martin." Saying the name evoked a memory, one he'd wondered about at that time. Riggs had been drugged to the gills by Owsley and had called him Ronnie! Back then he'd been puzzled, but now it made sense. Riggs thought it was Ronnie supporting him that night. He'd truly been blind. There had been many clues, but he hadn't connected them. "So how do you spend your evenings?" he asked, looking about. The television was ancient and the trailer sparsely furnished.

"Most of the time, I drink," Martin admitted, wondering why he opened up to Avery so easily while Cahill had to work so hard for it. "Or I go for a swim."

"Don't go swimming while drunk," Brooks cautioned.

"Don't worry," Martin repeated. "Even drunk I won't drown. Once a SEAL, always a SEAL."

"Which reminds me, do you have any pictures of your SEAL days? I must admit to being curious." When he'd been young, he'd had a thing for guys in military uniforms.

Martin caught on and laughed warmly. "Not pictures exactly. That was frowned upon. Had something to do with keeping everything covered up, but I do have some newspaper clippings. Sometimes something slipped out into the public." He looked about; where did he keep those clippings?

Amused, Brooks watched Riggs search the trailer. It took him a few minutes to locate an old shoe box. After removing the lid, Martin sat down next to him and handed him a newspaper clipping.

"If you look closely, you'll find me," Martin hinted, enjoying himself.

Brooks closely examined the picture, and yes, up front and center was a very serious looking Martin Riggs. "How old were you at that time?"

"Twenty, I guess," Martin wasn't sure. "That picture was taken before I was sent off on my first tour in Iraq. I was still wet behind the ears. I hadn't been in a war yet. I'd received extensive training of course, but nothing can prepare you for surviving on enemy territory. Either you're a fast learner and live or you die." Martin considered his captain and gave in, digging up another picture, as he'd recalled a question Avery had once put to him. "That's the only picture I have wearing my dress uniform. It was taken the day I was discharged." The only other person he'd ever shown these pictures was Miranda. That he was now showing them to Avery should tell him how much he trusted the guy.

"You look dashing, handsome!" Brooks said truthfully. "Though that was probably the last thing on your mind."

"Yeah," Martin acknowledged. "I was way more concerned about finding work upon leaving the Navy. I didn't have a place to stay either."

"But you managed." His respect for Riggs doubled.

"I don't give up when the going gets though. I was raised a fighter and the Navy made sure I became a survivor." Martin placed the picture back into the box and placed it aside. He expected Avery to leave now that they were done talking, but the captain didn't move. He grinned upon hearing Avery's stomach growl hungrily. "You need to go home and eat!"

"Todd's working a twenty-four shift," Brooks told Riggs. "Are you hungry?"

"I can eat," Martin admitted. The last thing he'd had was dinner at the Murtaugh's yesterday.

"I know a little Italian place that serves great pizza," Brooks hinted. "We need to eat anyway, so why not keep each other company?" To his surprise, Riggs nodded.

"Sure we can do that. Your treat?" he asked, making sure.

"Yeah, I'll pay!" Brooks smiled and got to his feet. "Let's go before it gets crowded."

Martin picked up his coat and followed his boss out of the trailer. When he'd gotten home earlier, he'd worried about being alone all evening and turning to booze after all. Now that he had company, those worries seemed nonexistent. Gaining Avery's friendship was the best thing that could have happened to him.


	14. Chapter 14

Episode 14

The Murtaugh File

"She called you an emotional terrorist, Riggs." Brooks shook his head disapprovingly. "You can't simply threaten to throw yourself of the building because she's following protocol!" He'd finally located Riggs at his desk after a fruitless search of the building. The Texan ignored him however, worsening his frustration. "Martin, I'm talking to you!"

"What do you want me to say?" After making sure it was just the two of them at the precinct, he sought out his captain's gaze. "The new guy sucks! He called me emotionally unstable, a liability! He undid everything Cahill achieved! That pompous ass had no idea how to handle me! After marching out of there, all I wanted was to get drunk and high, preferably at the same time!" His frustration returned. The shrink Cahill had referred him to had made him want to commit murder.

Since they were alone at the bullpen, Martin continued to let off steam. "I went to Cahill because I didn't want to fall off the wagon! I don't want to start drinking again, don't you get that? I tried to do the sensible thing!" He could have handled it differently though – better. But he hadn't been thinking rationally. He crossed his arms defiantly and refused to make eye contact. If he got into trouble for doing the right thing, then he could just as well give up!

Realizing he had come on too strong, Brooks regretted jumping to conclusions so quickly. "Martin, I get that you're upset, but please, don't ever threaten to kill yourself again."

Avery's tone had changed and it made Martin hesitantly seek eye contact. "I overreacted, I'll admit to that, but at that moment, I…" He'd felt abandoned – again. During his time in foster care he'd been passed around a lot. The foster families had gotten rid of him the moment they realized how much trouble he was. Losing someone who meant a lot to him had triggered those memories and an old pain had resurfaced. "I need her," he muttered beneath his breath.

Brooks rested a hand on the younger man's shoulder, almost expecting him to shake it off, but the Texan allowed it. "Martin, I'm sorry you got hurt. She was merely following protocol."

"I know that," he admitted, his anger deflating. Emotional pain and fear of losing her had made him overreact. "I'll apologize."

Brooks gently squeezed Riggs' shoulder, hoping to convey his support that way. "She gets why you did it. She's smart," he said teasingly. "But if something like that happens again, come to me instead. I'll do whatever I can to help."

"I appreciate that, cap." He really did. In his life there had only been a handful of people whom he'd trusted to look out for him. Apparently Avery was now one of them.

"So, how are you doing, aside from emotionally blackmailing Cahill into treating you?" he added a chuckle, hoping Riggs realized they were good.

"Haven't been drinking," Martin whispered. "Not smoking weed either, in case you're wondering." Being sober was something he needed to adapt to and it took time.

"That's good to hear, Martin. You look better, alert, fit," Brooks added. "Do you know that Roger hasn't complained about you once today? You're losing your touch."

Martin laughed. "We can't have that, now can we?" Maybe he'd drop by the Murtaughs' place to harass Rog a little.

Brooks wasn't sure he should do this, but then continued anyway. "Are you still in touch with Ronnie?"

"That's complicated." Martin cringed, feeling bad for ignoring his father in law. But then again, he'd told Ronnie that he wasn't family anymore.

"Try explaining it anyway."

"I don't answer his calls and ignore his messages. He doesn't handle being ignored well. Instead of giving up, he's getting more resilient." Today, he'd gotten three texts, telling him to get into touch, and Ronnie had called him once – he hadn't answered it though. "He's tenacious!"

"Must run in the family," Brooks said after thinking over. Martin gave him a stunned look, making him explain. "Ronnie Delgado is a tough guy, Martin. Do you really think he'll let you get away with ignoring him? You two are both stubborn!"

Thankfully Avery hadn't said – like father like son – because that would have hurt. He'd kill himself the day he turned into Nathan Riggs. On the other hand, maybe he had it all wrong.

Ronnie had tried being the best father in law possible, something Martin hadn't expected to happen. The most he'd hoped for was being tolerated, but he'd never thought Ronnie would welcome him so unconditionally into the Delgado household. And then there was Avery… a good friend and definitely another father figure. He wouldn't mind being compared to those two.

"You should message him once in a while," Brooks advised, though he doubted Riggs would listen to him. "He cares about you and I believe you feel the same way about him. Don't shut him out, Martin. Ronnie needs you and I think that you need him too. You just have a hard time accepting that. Do me a favor? Text him before you head home. You don't have to say a lot, just let the guy know you're alive and well."

"Maybe I will," Martin relented; he didn't want to admit it, but Avery was right. He did care about Ronnie and he didn't want the older man to worry needlessly. Maybe he should do this now while he had his captain's support?

Surprised, Brooks watched Riggs uncover his phone and he instantly noticed Miranda's screen picture. Riggs was obviously still hurting, still grieving.

Martin accessed Ronnie's latest message, asking him to let him know how he was doing. Wavering, he sought out Avery's eyes.

"Do it, text him, tell him you're fine," Brooks urged him.

Martin quickly typed that he was heading home in a bit and was doing alright. Before he knew it, he'd also included that he'd stopped drinking. After hitting send, he realized he'd let slip more than he'd intended.

"Well done," Brooks said, pleased that Riggs had followed his advice. "You made his day."

Martin was about to object when a new message arrived. After a moment's hesitation, he accessed it and fought back the tears building in his eyes.

_Thanks for letting me know, Marty. This old man worries about you. Anna wants you to know she misses you too. Don't be a stranger. You have a home and a family if you want it. Let me know how tomorrow goes?_

Turned out, Avery was right. He'd really made Ronnie happy. _I will, _he texted back before he could change his mind and quickly slipped the phone back into his pocket.

"It's ten PM, Martin. Go home, get some sleep and I'll see you in the morning." Brooks got to his feet. He'd call it a night too. Todd got off work at half past ten and he was picking him up at the hospital. "Now get going."

"Yes, cap." He hadn't thought it possible, but he felt okay. Texting Ronnie hadn't been as difficult as he'd thought. "See you tomorrow," he said, slipping into his coat and heading for the elevator. He came to a stop and looked at the older man from over his shoulder.

Brooks, sensing Riggs needed to get something off his chest, smiled encouragingly. "What is it?"

"Thanks for everything," Martin acknowledged. "It means a lot to me, cap."

"My name's Brooks, you know that, so you use it."

"Okay, fine, thanks, Brooks!" Calling his boss that felt wrong though and he quickly stepped into the elevator.

Small steps, Brooks reminded himself. They might make small steps, but they'd get there in the end, he was convinced of that.

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

Debriefing Riggs

Episode 15

As Good as it Getz

"Cap, you got a moment?" Martin wasn't sure what he was doing here, but maybe Avery could help out again. Talking to the captain often helped him clear his mind.

Brooks looked up from his paperwork and smiled at seeing a disheveled and timid looking Riggs standing in the doorway. The young man shuffled his feet nervously and ran a hand through his unruly hair. Staring at the floor, the Texan made a forlorn impression. "Sure, come in and close the door behind you." Murtaugh and Riggs had closed their current case and Roger had promptly left for home, to be with his family. "What's going on?" He didn't know Riggs this shy.

Martin almost reconsidered, wanting to turn around and march out of the office. But he needed some advice – he knew that. Avery could help him make up his mind. "It's personal," he informed the older man as he sat down, carefully keeping his gaze averted. He'd never done this before; talking about something so personal with another guy. Cahill was his shrink; that was different. Avery was…

"Just spill it. I'm sure it isn't as bad as you're making it out to be." Brooks put down his pen, sat back, and gave Riggs his undivided attention. "Something personal?" he questioned, hoping to make the Texan open up to him. Martin probably needed a little push.

"It's about Palmer," Martin admitted and scratched his neck, trying to control his anxiety.

"Ah." Brooks had a pretty good idea what troubled the younger man. "She likes you."

"Yeah, that's part of the problem." In the past, he would have repressed his feelings, but his talk with Roger earlier in the morgue had made him think. Roger was right; he was terrified of getting back into the dating game.

"And the other part of the problem is that you like her back?" Brooks said knowingly.

"Yeah, I do." Martin had a hard time controlling his little tics, like running a hand through his hair, scratching his ear and other mannerism that used to sneak up on him. "But I don't want to cheat on Miranda – again."

Brooks raised an eyebrow, not expecting such a personal revelation. However, it showed Riggs trusted him and he wasn't going to betray that trust. "What do you mean – again?" He had to get to the bottom of this if he wanted to help Martin.

"A few weeks ago, I got dead drunk and ended up taking a girl home."

Brooks listened, withholding judgment and encouragingly whispering, "Go on."

"We didn't have sex. I was too drunk for that – couldn't get it up," he admitted, blushing fiercely. "But we kissed and… you know did stuff."

Brooks had a hard time hiding his grin. He almost felt like talking to a teenager who was anxious about his first time. But this was different, he reminded himself. "Why do you consider that cheating?" he asked.

"I'm still married," Martin whispered, touching his ring in loving memory of his wife.

Brooks hoped he wouldn't screw up. This was a delicate matter and he had no experience handling situations like this. Maybe Cahill did, but Riggs hadn't gone to her. Martin had come to him instead. He got to his feet, walked over to the younger man, and leaned against the desk. "Martin?"

Martin sighed, buried his fingers in his hair and raised his head, finally making eye contact.

Brooks suspected Martin needed someone to tell him it was okay to move on and try again. That was something he could do. "Your wife died a year ago and you've been grieving since. I get that you still feel connected to her – that's only normal, but Miranda is dead," he said, hoping he wasn't making things worse. "You'll always love her. But at the same time, you have needs. Palmer and you have chemistry. Everyone noticed. You need to give this a shot. You deserve some happiness, Martin. Don't push her away."

"Ronnie said something similar," Martin confessed, staring at his hands again, which fidgeted with the fabric of his shirt. "He said that Miranda wouldn't want me to stay alone. That she would want me to be happy."

So Martin was still in touch with Ronnie? Good. It didn't matter to Brooks if they texted, talked on the phone or in person; as long as Riggs didn't burn that particular bridge he was fine with all kinds of communication. "Ronnie is a wise man, Martin. You should believe him. He means well."

Martin nodded reluctantly. "So, should I try?"

"Oh, yes, you definitely should." Brooks had received a phone call earlier that Palmer was on her way back to pick up a badge. He expected her to march into the precinct shortly. "And stop hiding in the morgue, will you?"

Martin grinned, knowing his partner had ratted him out to the captain. "Rog told you?"

"Yeah. Seriously, Martin, get back in the game." Brooks sat down behind his desk. "Finish today's paperwork before you go home," he said, making sure Riggs wouldn't vanish before Palmer showed up. "Now get going."

Martin felt immensely relieved. Ronnie, Roger, and now Avery as well felt he should do this. Well, maybe he could take Palmer out to dinner the next time she was in town. Or text her, asking if her flight had been okay. Staying in touch sounded doable. "Thanks," he whispered as he rose from the chair. "I'll give this a shot."

Brooks smiled, pleased. That was all he'd ever wanted.

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

Debriefing Riggs

Episode 16

Unnecessary roughness

"You're bleeding," Brooks pointed out to Martin after Roger had left the office. "Stay, I need to talk to you." That morning, Martin had appeared at the precinct with a head wound without explaining how he'd gotten it. Bailey had also mentioned it. She'd noticed it during their stake out.

"Bleeding?" Martin frowned, having no idea what was going on.

"Your brow." Brooks cocked his head, silently telling Martin to stay seated. He wanted to address this now and not wait until they'd closed the case. Wordlessly, he handed the younger man a tissue.

Martin took it and wiped at his head, realizing a cut beneath the hair line had opened again. That was why he was bleeding. He had to stitch it up later.

"What happened?" Brooks knew about the left hook which had cost Martin a tooth, but Roger never mentioned a head injury. That left hook couldn't have caused it. Which reminded him, he would call his dentist later and get Martin an appointment. Learning the other man had tried to glue his tooth back using rubber cement made him despair. If Martin didn't look after himself, he would do so instead. "Start talking."

Martin shrugged; the truth was that he trouble recalling how it had happened. He'd felt out of control, cut loose and then it had happened. "Can we drop this, please?" he added, hoping to convince Avery to let this go.

"No, we can't. You got hurt and I want to know why. Who did that? Why didn't you report it? Who busted your head open?" Had the Texan provoked another bar fight?

Sighing, Martin stared at the wall. He didn't want to do this. It was bad enough Cahill made him discuss this stuff. He could mislead her, but Avery would see through his pretence. The guy was terrifyingly good at reading him.

"Martin, I'm waiting." Brooks put his foot down; he wouldn't let get Riggs away with ignoring him. "I want the truth and I want it now."

Martin rolled his shoulders, tucked some elusive hair behind his ear, and ended up with bloodied fingertips. Not good.

"Someone needs to check on that injury. Head wounds need to be taken seriously, you know that. You might be concussed."

"I'm fine." Martin raised his hands, trying to appease his boss, but the move completely backfired, exposing the blood on his fingers. He quickly wiped it off on his jeans. "It's nothing. I don't have a concussion. I know what those feel like."

"That doesn't reassure me, but it might explain some of your issues," Brooks said, adding a little humor in the hope of diffusing the building tension. Martin didn't like him poking his nose into his business, but Brooks couldn't care less. Friends hung in there and he wasn't backing down. Not when Martin was obviously in trouble.

Managing a weak grin, Martin nervously fidgeted with his hands, realizing he had blood stuck beneath his fingernails.

"Martin, I want to help."

He knew that, but that didn't make this any easier. "I don't want to do this," he muttered beneath his breath, hoping it would get Avery off his back.

"And that's exactly why you need to do this. Martin, tell me, what happened?" The young man's reluctance worried Brooks. What could the Texan possibly be hiding?

"I did it myself, okay?" Martin jumped to his feet and walked over to the window, where he pointedly stared at the city lights. "Now back off!"

Martin's anger didn't come as a surprise, and in a way, Brooks was relieved to see it. He preferred it to the guilt and shame that normally burdened the younger man. "What did you do? How did it happen?" Nope, he wasn't backing off. Not until he knew the truth. Hearing Martin had harmed himself hurt, but it wasn't unexpected.

Martin didn't know why, but suddenly the dam broke and he started talking; he couldn't stop himself! "I spent the night with Palmer and when I got back to the trailer, I listened to her message. Then I looked at Miranda's picture and I…" Martin hung his head in defeat. "I felt so damn guilty. I'd cheated on her again. This time for real –and so I hunted down some booze."

Shame made it hard for Martin to continue, but Avery would make him spill the rest anyway, so better he'd tell him now and get it over with. "I looked into the mirror and I hated the face staring back at me." Martin rested his brow against the cool window pane and it actually soothed his headache. He'd ignored it until that moment, but his head throbbed like mad and he might have a concussion after all, but no way was he telling Avery! "I smashed my head into the mirror. The shards might have caused the bleeding, I don't know." He'd been a mess when it had happened and he still was a mess now. "Why can't I be faithful?"

Brooks needed a moment to compose himself and gather his thoughts. The pain Martin was in made him ache in turn. Brooks got to his feet and walked over to the Texan, who once more stared at his reflection.

Worried about the reaction that might provoke, Brooks rested his hands on Martin's shoulders and turned him toward him. "Martin, look at me." He didn't want the young man to harm himself again because he couldn't bear his reflection. He felt in over his head. He was no psychologist, lacked Cahill's expertise, and yet, it always turned out to be him picking up the pieces. He hoped he wouldn't let Martin down this time either.

"I love Miranda. I'm her husband and I should be faithful –"

"I'm going to stop you right there," Brooks said firmly, wishing he had taken some courses in psychology when he was younger. "You're much too hard on yourself, Martin. Miranda's dead, and yes, she'll always be a part of you, but it's time to move on and that scares the hell out of you. Holding onto the pain is safer, I get it. Seeing Palmer and getting involved again is scary, but don't let that keep you back. You said it yourself the other day; Miranda wants you to be happy. I believe that you have her blessing."

"Do you really think that?" Martin felt like a drowning man who had just been thrown a lifeline. Ronnie had said the same thing, hadn't he? Was he being too hard on himself? Miranda would want him to be happy, he knew that. That was the kind of person she had been. She wouldn't want him to live in the past and hang on to the pain. While she had been alive, she'd eased his pain in so many ways.

"I really do, Martin. And so should you." He cradled the young man's face in his hands and smiled reassuringly. "Letting go is hard, but you need to set her free, Martin."

In his heart he knew that. If he wanted another shot at happiness, he had to let go, but damn, it was so fucking hard!

Brooks released Martin and took a step back, creating some distance so the young man could compose himself again. "Promise me to have that head wound checked." He wanted to create some semblance of normalcy now that they'd mastered another emotional storm.

"I'll deal with it." He'd stitch it up later. No need to see a doctor. "I don't know why I told you all that," he confessed in an unguarded moment. "Cahill always tries to get me to talk to her, but I shut down. I don't want to burden her, I guess. But with you it's different." But the answer still eluded him. Why did he trust Avery to such a degree? Why didn't it bother him to open up to the older man?

Brooks could have told him the truth; that Martin had started seeing him as a father figure, but he doubted the Texan was ready for another revelation. "Must be my charm," he replied, mirroring one of the replies the young man had given him when their talks had first started.

Martin doubted that, but felt too emotional to dig into it. "I think I'll head home and get some sleep." He wasn't much use in his current state.

"And I'll text you your dental appointment," Brooks added in a cheeky tone. "We need to get that tooth fixed!"

Abandoning all resistance, Martin nodded meekly. Avery wouldn't listen to his protest anyway. "I hate dentists," he added for good measure.

"Too bad, you're seeing one in a couple of days. In the meantime, make sure you don't lose another tooth!"

"Don't worry, I never believed in the tooth fairy anyway. I'll try to hold on to the ones I have left." Their bickering helped him relax. "See you later, Brooks," he said, using his captain's name on purpose, knowing hearing it would please him. It was his way of showing his gratitude.

"See you tomorrow, Martin." Brooks felt relieved he'd succeeded in making Martin open up to him. Hearing the younger man had been in so much emotional pain that he'd banged his head into the mirror was unsettling. Brooks knew that there was only so much he could do, which worried him. He was going to keep a close eye on Martin Riggs, and if necessary, he'd intervene again.

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

Episode 17

A Problem Like Maria

Brooks was in the middle of having dinner with Todd when his phone rang. Ignoring it got him a questioning look from his partner.

"Aren't you going to answer that?" When they'd started dating, Todd had quickly realized the challenges involving dating a cop. Ever since Brooks had been made captain, finding moments they could share had become even more challenging. But he'd fully known what he was getting himself into and understood Brooks had to be available at all times. His own job was just as demanding. As a trauma surgeon he was often on call too. "Come on, you know I'm fine with it."

Sighing, Brooks nodded thankfully and checked on the caller ID. Stunned, he realized it was Riggs calling him. The Texan had never called him after hours before. That the young man was doing so now, instantly alarmed him. "Brooks here."

"Hey, cap, you aren't at the office."

Something in Martin's voice was off and it instantly alerted him that something was very wrong indeed. "Does that mean you're at the precinct?"

"Not anymore. I'm on my way back to the trailer."

Martin wasn't joking. He wasn't running his mouth. No smart come backs, instead, an eerie silence at the other end of the line. So Martin had been at his office in search of him and had decided to call him upon not finding him at work. That was out of character for the Texan. "What's wrong, Martin?"

"Nothing, I'm sorry I called. Enjoy your evening, cap."

That was it? Brooks didn't buy it. Martin wouldn't call him just to tell him that. "I can be at your place in twenty. Whatever is wrong, don't do anything rash. I want you to sit on that couch of yours and wait for me." Rethinking his instructions, he added, "If necessary sit on your hands. Stay clear of any weapons and booze, understood?"

"Captain, you don't have to –"

"Shut up, Martin. Just make sure you're still in one piece by the time I get there." Brooks got to his feet, gave his partner an apologetic look, and felt relieved at seeing Todd's nod. He'd told Todd about Martin and his lover knew about the Texan's problems.

"Go," Todd said, "I get it."

"Thanks," Brooks whispered as he headed for the door. "Are you still there, Martin?"

"Yeah."

"You know what to do, just wait for me to get there."

"Fine."

Martin's lack of witty remarks seriously worried Brooks. He hoped he'd get there in time!

/

Martin had no idea what devil had ridden him to call Avery. He'd felt torn; he needed advice, a listening ear, but at the same time, rage consumed him and he knew he'd do something utterly stupid if he acted without thinking. Avery had helped him in the past, and for some elusive reason, he trusted the other man to support him in his darkest hour.

Avery hadn't disappointed him, announcing at once that he'd be over in twenty. He'd hoped for his captain to react in that way, but had been afraid to hope it would happen.

And so he did as ordered. After placing the file on the desk, he sat down on the couch, wringing his hands and trying his hardest not to go for the bottle he kept stashed away in the microwave. He'd even placed his gun next to the file, not trusting himself to abuse it. He lost all track of time, staring at the gun and the file next to it, feeling entranced.

"Riggs!" Brooks opened the door, marched inside, and sighed in relief at finding the other man on the couch. It seemed Martin had followed his instructions to the T. Truth be told, he'd worried he'd find him dead drunk, about to commit murder, or in Martin's case, suicide. "What's going on? What happened?" A quick look told him that the Beretta was on the table, next to what looked like a DEA file. "Martin?" He opted to sit down next to the Texan, thinking it best to stay close.

Dread, anger and self loathing made it hard for Martin to say anything at all. He knew he had to, though. Avery would make him open up anyway. "Palmer gave me that file earlier."

All right, Martin being that terse increased his worries. Brooks picked up the file and then looked at the younger man. "What am I looking at?"

"Evidence they gathered at Gideon's house. It contains information on targets of the cartel, carried out hits… " He wasn't sure he could actually say the words. He blankly stared ahead.

Whatever had spooked Martin was very serious. Brooks hadn't seen the Texan in that condition before. Shell shocked maybe described it best. He opened the file and scanned the content, eventually finding Miranda Riggs' name and photo. Targets, Martin had said; the file contained confirmed cartel hits, which meant…

"They killed her. The car crash wasn't an accident. She was a target and Gideon killed her." The words came surprisingly easy. Martin hadn't thought he'd get them out. "They killed her, cap."

Brooks cringed at seeing the expression in those brown eyes when they looked at him. "Martin –" he started, but the Texan cut him short.

"I asked Tito if the cartel had Miranda killed. He said that I hadn't been that important back then and that I wasn't that important now." His emotions were all over the place and he felt like he was riding an out of control rollercoaster. The anger, simmering just beneath his calm exterior, frightened even him. "The bastard lied."

Brooks knew he had to careful. One wrong word would set Riggs off. "I'm sorry, Martin."

"Gideon and Tito will be sorry too when I'm through with them!" Martin glared at his captain. "They'll pay for this!" He jumped to his feet, grabbed his weapon, and kicked over the table in frustration. "They have to die!"

Brooks drew in a deep breath. "Martin, calm down."

"I can't! They killed her! She was pregnant! She was on her way to the hospital to have our baby when they killed her!" Tears leaked from his eyes, but he didn't know if he wept because he was angry or crushed by loss. "They have to pay for what they did to her!"

"Martin," Brooks said, trying again and getting to his feet. "We'll make them pay, but we need to do this right. We need to prove they killed her and then we can lock them away. Going after them and killing them isn't the answer."

"For me it is!" Martin collected ammunition and picked up his favorite long rifle, the M 40. He also kept weapons in the truck, so he was ready to go hunting. "Get out of my way," he growled at finding Avery blocking his path.

"I can't." Brooks knew opposing Martin was dangerous. The Texan was out of control and the look in those eyes actually scared him. "Don't do this. Let me help. Let's do this the right way. Please, Martin, calm down and listen to me." He raised his hands imploringly. "I can't even begin to imagine the pain you are in, but I know it's bad. Martin, if you trust me, even a little, let me help. Don't do this. Please."

Martin wanted to shove Avery out of the way, but froze. No, he refused to lay hands on the older man. Avery had only ever shown him kindness. He refused to repay that with violence. "Brooks, get out of my way."

"No," Brooks stated firmly. "You'll have to take me out first." And he prayed to God Martin wouldn't take that step. He was armed too and would stop the Texan from making a big mistake. "We'll start gathering information. We'll find out what really went down and charge them. You need to trust me a little, Martin. Can you do that?"

Brooks' calm tone and controlled manner helped ground him, and Martin slowly calmed down. The rage still burned him alive though. The anger consumed him and he wasn't sure he could control it.

"That's it. Yes, that's better. Now, give me the Beretta." Brooks raised his hand, waiting for Martin to make up his mind. "Please trust me."

Hating himself for giving in, Martin placed the weapon into Avery's hand and the long rifle back in its case. "This is a mistake. I need to question him and…" Punish him for what Gideon had done, but he was smart enough to keep that to himself.

"Martin, come on, let's get out of here." The trailer was a sanctimony where Riggs kept Miranda's memory alive. This was where he was most vulnerable, most prone to rash actions, and Brooks had to get him out.

"No," Martin objected as his gaze came to rest on Miranda's picture.

"Yes, we're going for a walk. You need to calm down." Unsure if Martin would tolerate the touch, he rested a hand on the Texan's shoulder. When the younger man allowed it, Brooks carefully steered him to the door. "We'll go for a walk, maybe sit for a while and you'll calm down." He didn't know why Martin had decided to park his trailer in this bay, but there had to be a reason for it. He hoped it was a good one.

Martin reluctantly made eye contact. Avery might be right; Miranda always came here to clear her mind. Maybe it would work for him too.

/

After strolling along the beach for half an hour, they ended up back at the trailer, sitting in the beach chairs and looking out over the dark, calming sea. Martin had composed himself; something he hadn't thought possible. He realized it had everything to do with the man sitting next to him. Avery was a rock; a life line, and providing emotional support which he desperately needed. It was the very reason he'd called his captain; his subconscious kicking in and showing him the way.

"Feeling calmer?" Brooks inquired as he searched Martin's eyes.

"A bit," he acknowledged, feeling embarrassed for threatening Avery earlier. "I'm sorry about –"

But Brooks interrupted him. "Don't worry about it. Anger sometimes makes you act a certain way. No hard feelings," he said and smiled.

"Thanks," Martin muttered, still angry with himself for the way he'd treated the older man. "I still want Gideon."

"I know you do and I promised to help you. I will, but we need to do this the right way."

"You being the voice of reason helps," Martin admitted in a shaky tone. "Sorry I screwed up your evening." Hopefully he hadn't interrupted anything important.

"Don't worry about it. You didn't do any damage," he joked and winked. "Not this time."

The friendly banter eased Martin's mind. He stared out over the sea and wondered what to do next. Maybe he should give Avery a chance. If that didn't work out, he'd go after Gideon anyway.

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

Episode 18

Commencement

Brooks had watched Riggs fall apart with a heavy heart. He'd tried to reason with the Texan, to give them time to find out the extent of Gideon's operations, but Martin's impatience had gotten the better of him. While watching the footage of Gideon being sprung, he recognized the M 40, which Riggs kept at his trailer. Martin had tried to fool them, and Brooks had played along, unwilling to expose his detective, but he'd known all along it was Martin Riggs carrying out that operation with military precision.

Later, Roger covered for Riggs too when his former partner told him that Gideon was dead. He understood why Murtaugh went to such lengths to keep Riggs on the force. If Martin lost his connection to the team, he was truly a loose cannon. He tried talking to Martin afterwards, but the younger man had walled himself up.

Gideon resurfacing and torturing Roger had taken him by surprise. Riggs going underground without a trace hadn't. He'd expected for that to happen a lot earlier. It was a miracle they'd managed to keep Riggs on the straight and narrow for so long. Going after Tito Flores was a suicide mission and Martin was okay with that. In his heart, Brooks suspected he'd never see the Texan again – not alive. Damn, he felt like he'd failed the other man! He'd tried so hard, but in the end, it hadn't been enough.

Finding Ronnie was dirty had been another shock. He'd never thought it possible that someone like Ronnie Delgado could be working for the cartel. He couldn't imagine how hard that realization must have hit Martin, who'd respected, maybe even loved, his father in law. Riggs had lost another grounding factor in his life. Why hadn't he realized that sooner? He'd have tried harder to keep Martin onboard!

"Brooks?" Todd turned around and looked at his partner. "That friend of yours, Martin Riggs..."

"What about him?" Brooks sipped from the scotch he'd poured himself earlier. Seeing an odd look in his lover's eyes, he rose from the couch and walked over to him.

"Scruffy looking? Messy, blond hair? Moustache?"

"Yes," Brooks confirmed, frowning in surprise. Why was Todd bringing him up?

"I think he's watching the house. I didn't notice him at first as he's hiding in the shadows over there."

Brooks followed the direction of Todd's gaze and found Martin standing in the shadows, dressed in black like he'd been when he'd freed Gideon. "You don't have to worry," he quickly assured his partner.

"I don't," Todd quickly said, "but I think he's waiting for you to talk to him." Brooks had updated him about Riggs' situation, and although he didn't know the man, he felt for the Texan.

"I probably should," Brooks agreed. He hadn't realized that Martin knew where he lived, but he should have. The man might act rash and appear impulsive, but he was a trained Navy SEAL. Brooks opened the door and stepped into the cool night. "Martin?"

Martin stepped forward. It had taken them longer than he'd thought to notice him. But then again, Todd wasn't a cop and hadn't been on alert. He'd eventually removed his balaclava and stepped into the moonlight to draw the man's attention, which had worked. "Captain." He wasn't sure why he was here, what he hoped to accomplish, but he couldn't leave for Mexico like that. He wanted to say goodbye first.

"Geared up to go to war?" Brooks recognized the tell tale signs of a soldier ready to face battle. That was how Martin saw this; as another war to fight in and win. "You do realize that going after Tito on your own will get you killed?"

"Doesn't matter, cap. I lost my reason to live when Miranda died. I'm surprised I lasted this long. If Roger and you hadn't tried so hard to keep me alive, I'd be long dead." And he would have been fine with that, but after finding out Miranda's death was a hit, he wanted to stay alive long enough to kill Tito. He wanted to look the man in the eye when he killed him. He wanted Flores to know who was ending him.

"I wish you wouldn't do this." But Brooks knew he wouldn't be able to stop Martin; not this time around. The other night on the beach the Texan had been in emotional turmoil. This time around, Martin was calm and determined to carry out his mission. This wasn't the grieving husband about to fly off the handle. This was a Navy SEAL about to carry out a mission. "You don't have to do this," he tried, still.

"I must do this, cap." Martin appreciated the other man's effort. "For what it's worth, I'm grateful. You made things easier for a little while. Knowing you had my back helped. Our talks helped." He even managed a little smile. "It's been an honor knowing and working for you. You're a good man, Brooks. Thanks for not giving up on me."

With a burdened heart, Brooks realized this was goodbye. Martin was here to tell him farewell. He stepped closer and searched those brown eyes, which were cold and resolved. There was hardly a speck of emotion in them and it told him he'd be unable to reach Riggs. He raised his arm and offered his hand in goodbye. "I still wish you wouldn't do this, Martin. I hate losing you. You're a great cop, but I consider you a friend foremost. Maybe even family."

Martin nodded; he'd finally realized that. "You really should adopt, you know. Somewhere out there a kid needs a dad like you."

It was the biggest compliment Martin could possibly give him. "Someone like you?"

Martin chuckled. "Probably."

"If it means anything to you, I'd love to have you for a son." Martin's expression told him it meant a lot to the younger man. "Please don't make me bury you. I don't want to stand at your grave and say goodbye forever."

Things were getting too emotional and Martin's resolve started to waver. He needed to end this conversation now. "Be well, Brooks, and thanks for everything."

"Well, at least this time I didn't have to pester you into using my name." Brooks' heart was breaking though. "Try to stay alive, can you do that for me?"

Martin sighed. "I can't make you that promise, cap."

"Trying means everything to me, Martin." He couldn't stop Martin from hunting down Flores, but maybe he could convince the younger man not to turn it into a suicide mission. "Just try."

"Fine," Martin said, giving in for the moment. He'd try, but not very hard. "Bye, Brooks." He let go of his captain's hand and turned around, ready to vanish into the night once more.

"I'll see you soon, Martin." Brooks refused to say goodbye indefinitely.

Brooks' words registered with Martin and they caused his heart to painfully contract. He couldn't make that promise. He simply couldn't.

TBC


	19. Chapter 19

Season 2

Episode 1

El gringo loco

Brooks had a hard time believing Martin was alive and well. He'd fully expected to never see the young man again. Their goodbye had seemed final, but he refused to question his good luck, after all Martin Riggs was back at the precinct.

Okay, Tito was dead, which complicated the matter, but still, he didn't consider that a major problem. He tried to catch Martin's gaze, but the Texan avoided looking at him at all cost. Okay, maybe it was too soon and the younger man needed time. With a heavy heart, he let Riggs walk away.

/

With Riggs' return to the precinct came the usual mayhem that accompanied the Texan where ever he went. Even a signed confession hadn't convinced Martin that Gordon Barnes had done it, and of course, he'd decided to investigate. It turned out Martin was right. Raul Mendez had killed Tito Flores. Back then, Brooks had discarded Martin's assessment that Gordon Barnes hadn't murdered Flores, simply because the Texan said he'd known by looking into the man's eyes. He really needed to pay more attention to Martin's instincts!

And now the two detectives were back in his office being officially reinstated; that was if Martin wanted his badge back. The younger man had stated he was done with being a cop and would walk away from them. For some reason, Brooks didn't buy that. Being a cop was in Martin's blood.

Roger had quickly gathered his gun and badge and headed home to make things right with his family. Martin however, remained standing in front of the desk and stared indecisively at his badge.

The other man had dodged him until now, so Brooks used the opportunity to address him. "It's good to have you back, Martin. You had me worried these last few weeks." Martin flinched, which might indicate a guilty conscience. If needed, he'd use that to his advantage.

"That's on Rog. He told me he loved me," Martin let slip, still avoiding eye contact. He felt bad for what he'd put his captain through. He shouldn't have gone to Avery's place to say his goodbyes. He'd hurt the older man's feelings, he knew that. Admitting it aloud however was too painful, so he kept it buried inside. "I was fully prepared to die in that hotel room. If Rog hadn't shown up…"

"In that case, I'm glad he did." Brooks sat down, creating a bit more distance between them because he felt Martin needed it. "Thanks for not making me attend your funeral."

Martin cringed; Brooks did know how to make him feel even guiltier than he did already. "Sorry about that," he apologized. "I wasn't in my right mind at that time. I shouldn't have come to your place. That was uncalled for."

"Martin, I'm glad you did." Brooks wondered if they'd reached a crossroad. Either Martin would fully accept him into his life, or the Texan would go back to keeping his distance. Having no say in the matter hurt, but he'd respect the outcome. This was Martin's decision to make. The man was back from the dead. He'd gone to Mexico knowing he'd die the moment he killed Tito and he'd accepted that. Now Martin had to come to terms with the fact that he was alive after all. "For what it's worth, I love you too." If the truth had worked before, it might work again.

Martin's eyes widened dramatically and now he did look at his captain. "What?" He must have misheard. Avery couldn't have possibly said that!

"Is that really so hard to believe?" Brooks questioned in a sharp tone. "People do care about you! A lot! Cahill was furious after receiving your suicide note!"

"It was a thank you note!" he corrected the older man. "I already told her so!"

"Well, she's the professional, and when she says it was a suicide note, I believe her!"

"Fair enough," Martin conceded. "She is the shrink here." He grew momentarily silent, his thoughts racing and making his head hurt. "Did you mean it?"

"That I deeply care about you? Yes," Brooks admitted. "Don't tell me you didn't realize that yourself. You practically asked me to adopt you!"

"I didn't!" Martin automatically denied. But it was the truth, wasn't it?

Wondering if he would ever get through to the stubborn Texan, Brooks got to his feet and walked over to him. "Martin, look at me, will you?"

Martin hesitantly complied. The emotion in Brooks' eyes made him wince. There was no denying the truth – the man really cared about him.

"I'm honored, do you know that? That you'd pick me. As I said before, I'll gladly act the part. I always wanted to be a dad anyway."

This was getting too much for Martin, who quickly turned away. "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into!"

"Oh, I do! I've been your captain for over a year now. I know how much trouble you are, Riggs! But I also know that you're a good person. A sniper with a heart of gold," he quipped, recalling the way Martin had described the man who'd freed Gideon with military precision.

Martin didn't get it at first, but then he did and grinned. "I was way too obvious, wasn't I?"

"You couldn't hurt those guards; that says a lot about you as a person. No matter how badly you wanted to get your hands on Gideon, you wouldn't injure them." Martin smiled a little before turning to face him again. "So do you want the badge? Do you still want to be a cop?"

"I'm not sure," Martin whispered, ill at ease. "I'm not sure Rog still wants me as his partner."

"Oh, he does, don't worry about that. He already told me." Maybe hearing that would help Martin make up his mind.

"What do you think? You'll be the one having to keep me out of trouble. Your life would be way easier without me in it." He was serious; he didn't want Avery having to put his own life on hold because he'd gone off the handle again.

"Easier, probably, but not better. Martin, I like having you around. Yes, you cause mayhem and leave a path of destruction in your wake, but it's the bad guys paying the price, not I. I really think you're a good cop, one of the best. It's what you do – what you are."

Martin wavered; what if this was a mistake? Ah well, it wouldn't be his first. "As long as you're sure you want to do this."

"Oh, I'm sure!" Brooks picked up the badge and offered it to the young man. "Take it and go back to doing what you're good at; making the bad guys pay and keeping the city safe."

Martin took hold of the badge and nodded. "Fine, but if I fuck up, it's on you."

"Oh, it always is! Trust me, I can deal with the fallout." Next he handed the Texan his Beretta. "Just promise me to be careful out there." Martin frowned at him and the Texan wanted to say something, but Brooks cut him short. "Hey, now that I'm your dad, I'm entitled to worry!"

Emotions rose from somewhere deep inside and made it hard for Martin to breathe. "You're taking this way too seriously." But damn, it felt good to know someone worried about him to such an extent!

Hopefully it wasn't too little, too late, Brooks mused. At times, he felt he was talking to a teenager rather than an adult. It illustrated just how much Martin must have missed having a caring father in the past. One of these days, he'd find out what had happened to Martin that social services had moved him into foster care. "Maybe," he said, "but I've never been a dad before. Give me some time to figure it out, young man!"

Martin couldn't stop himself; he burst out laughing, recalling the way Avery had tried reassuring Ethan all that time ago. "You'll get the hang of it eventually."

"I will," Brooks stated confidently. "Now, I have lots of work waiting for me. I need to do a lot of damage control where you two are concerned!"

"Actually," Martin wavered, quickly reconsidering the request he'd been about to make. "Forget about it," he said, trying to cover up his unease .

"What is it, Martin? I'll make time for it." That was what a father would do.

Martin felt terribly nervous; he shouldn't ask Brooks to do this for him.

"Martin, tell me."

Rubbing his brow, he tried to control his rising apprehension. "I want to visit Miranda's grave, but I can't go there alone. I need…"

Brooks understood. "I'll come with you. When do you want to do this?" It was close to midnight and they'd better go there during the day.

"Tomorrow after work?" Martin scratched behind his ear, hoping Brooks would say yes. Having him there might make things easier.

"We'll do that. You don't have to do this alone, all right?" Brooks gently placed his hand on Martin's upper arm and gave it a squeeze. "Want to crash on the couch or are you heading home?" He made the offer in case Martin didn't want to spend the night alone in his trailer.

"I'm heading home. I'm tired." He would be all right. Knowing Brooks would tag along tomorrow already soothed his mind. "Thanks!"

"You only have to ask, Martin. Now go home and get some rest!" Brooks would do the same thing in a few minutes.

"See you tomorrow, Brooks." Martin wondered about the odd look the older man gave him. "What?"

"Nothing," he whispered while grinning. Apparently Martin was finally fine with calling him Brooks.

/

They ended up taking Brooks' car and the truck stayed in the parking lot. Martin, already nervous because he was finally doing this, was fine with that. He'd stalled visiting her grace, but realized he needed to do this if he wanted to let go. Now that Tito Flores was dead, he finally felt ready to move on, no matter how much the very thought scared him. Therefore he was grateful to have Brooks at his side.

Brooks parked the car and cast a glance at the young man sitting next to him. Martin was remarkably quiet and his hands, which twitched nervously, showed his nervousness. "It'll be all right," he said reassuringly. "You're doing the right thing."

Martin nodded reluctantly. A part of him didn't want to do this and was scared of what the future would bring – a future without the pain he'd so desperately held on to.

Brooks got out of the car first, waiting for Martin to either follow him or to stay inside until he was ready to take that step. A minute later, Martin joined him and they started walking. Brooks took his lead from Martin, who knew where his wife was buried. He tried to offer his silent support by simply remaining at Martin's side. His heart missed a painful beat upon seeing the amber eyes fill with tears, as the younger man walked over to her grave.

Brooks stayed at a distance. This was personal; this was between Martin and his wife. He had no business getting involved. He focused his attention elsewhere, as he didn't want to eavesdrop, but he did see Martin bury his wedding ring in the soil. He'd never been in such a position before and knew he couldn't possibly imagine the pain Martin was going through. All he could do was offer his support.

Eventually Martin got to his feet again, and while turning toward him, Brooks watched him quickly wipe the remaining tears from his face. Martin lowered his gaze and stared at the grass, still struggling to control his emotions. "It's okay to cry," Brooks offered after a moment's thought. "Men not being allowed to shed tears is bullshit, you know? It's really healthy to cry now and then." Most men were raised with the belief that crying was a weakness and had to be avoided at all cost. He didn't agree with that. Repressing emotions didn't work. It was best to let them out.

Already feeling raw due to the ache tearing at his heart, Martin cringed. Nathan Riggs would most certainly contradict Brooks. His father wasn't big on sentiment. He'd have beaten it out of him instead – literally. Martin failed to keep his emotions at bay and chuckled, quite embittered.

Brooks wondered about that peculiar reaction, but didn't address it. Not now. Not when Martin was already hurting. "There's a cosy tearoom close by. Why don't we go there?"

"I don't do tea," Martin objected, and this time, his chuckle sounded more genuine. Slowly, these overwhelming emotions faded, but the emotional bloodletting left him mentally exhausted.

"Don't worry, they have coffee too." Brooks winked.

"Fine," Martin said, giving in. He couldn't bear the thought of going home and spending the rest of the day alone. He would end up dead drunk, or even worse. He'd never thought it possible that visiting Miranda's grave and telling her goodbye would affect him to this degree. But he felt like a drowning man. Like he was trying to stay on his feet while walking on quicksand, which did his hardest to pull him under.

Brooks carefully wrapped an arm around Martin's shoulder and guided the young man away from the grave. Instinctively he knew that words wouldn't reach the grieving man. What Martin needed was company, someone who'd sit with him and help him carry the pain. He'd could do that. He wouldn't abandon Martin.

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

Debriefing Riggs

Season 2

Episode 2

Dancing in September

This whole thing with Brooks working a job with them unnerved Martin. His captain should be in his office, safely tucked away behind his desk. It didn't matter that the guy had two decades worth of experience, he simply wanted Brooks safe.

Brooks wondered what the hell was wrong. Ever since the Deputy Chief had moved into his office, Martin had been off. Glancing sideways at the Texan, he knew he had to get to the heart of the matter, which was mainly the reason why he'd decided to tag along. They were on their way to the wellness resort and Martin kept giving him shifty looks. "Spill it, tell me what's wrong! Why do you keep giving me the evil eye?"

Was he really that obvious? Martin cringed; he hadn't wanted Brooks to realize he was preoccupied. "You shouldn't be here," he said, parking the car and quietly checking out the entrance to the beauty clinic, making sure Brooks wasn't in immediate danger. "You haven't been in the field for ages." Maybe he shouldn't have added that last bit, but it had slipped past his guard.

Brooks' eyes widened, suddenly realizing what was wrong. "You're worried!" Normally it was the other way around. "Martin, I've been a cop for over twenty years. I can handle whatever situation we encounter!" In a way, knowing Martin worried about his safety was endearing, but at the same time, he felt frustrated that the Texan didn't think he could take care of himself. "I happen to be an excellent shot."

"Really?" Martin cocked his head. "When was the last time you shot a perp attacking you?" He knew he'd hit a sore spot when Brooks' facial features contorted. "Thought so."

"That doesn't matter!" Brooks knew how to take down an attacker. Hell, he'd even saved Roger's life in the past because his fast reflexes had kicked in. "This isn't about you thinking I'm a lousy shot. This is about you finding an excuse to send me back to the precinct," he chided the younger man.

Martin had to admit Brooks was right. But truth be told, he hadn't fully realized it until the older man had called him on it. Oh, he'd really screwed up. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I know you're a good cop. It's just –"

"You're worried I might get injured, or killed." Okay, maybe he shouldn't have added that last bit, because now Martin looked seriously bothered. "Forget I said that."

"Can't," Martin whispered, awkwardly. "It's true. I'm worried about your safety."

"That's okay," Brooks soothed. "I get it. But Martin, I don't die that easily. I survived being Roger's partner for years, didn't I?" It wasn't enough though; Martin wasn't convinced. "And I have you watching my back so what could possibly go wrong?" He hoped it was the right thing to say in order to comfort the other man.

"Not helping," Martin said and scratched his chin. "You know I'm trouble. The safest way to get hurt is to be close to me."

All right, that one had backfired on him. "Well, then you have to be extra careful this time around. Martin, I know you're worried. What if I promise to stay back and let you chase after the bad guys?"

That helped a little. "Just stay out of the danger zone, Brooks."

"Which is all around you?" Brooks joked.

"Yeah." Martin managed a chuckle. "Still don't like it though."

"You don't have to," argued Brooks, "but let me do my job? I let you do yours too."

"Fine," Martin agreed reluctantly, promising himself to make sure Brooks remained safe.

/

The Deputy Chief moving into Brooks' office and making it hers frustrated Martin. Although they had solved the case, he felt like they were being punished. Seeing Brooks running around the bullpen without being able to coordinate their actions from within his office upset Martin. That office was Brooks' territory and she had no business invading it!

"Are you actually growling?" Brooks had ended up sharing Martin's desk and now looked at his detective.

"Probably." Martin had no reason to deny it. "She needs to move her ass out of your office."

Brooks arched an eyebrow. Martin going all territorial didn't surprise him. He'd actually expected for it to happen a lot sooner. "Don't let her get to you. It's power play and she's in control for now. Trust me, sooner or later she makes a mistake and they'll boot her. It's how the system works."

"Maybe, but I don't like it."

Brooks smiled warmly. Apparently Martin felt as protective of him as he was of the Texan these days. It seemed that their relationship really worked both ways, and he liked that!

TBC


	21. Chapter 21

Debriefing Riggs

Season 2

Episode 3

Born To Run

Was it really that surprising that he ended up alone and drinking in his trailer again? Probably not. This case had been hell. For one, Brooks hadn't been there to have his back, as his captain had attended a mandatory leadership course. Which was bullshit as far as Martin was concerned. Brooks wasn't the average LAPD captain and that was a good thing! The man knew how to run his department and had one of the highest crime solving rates in the USA. They should let him do his job!

Then there was the thing with Palmer. He knew he'd screwed up and he'd wanted to make things up to her, had even bought her flowers and was ready to take their relationship to the next level, but then she'd ended it. He was no fool; he knew he'd brought this on himself, but he regretted the way it had ended. He'd needed more time to get used to being with someone after being alone for such a long time. She had given him a chance and he'd thrown it away.

Gulping down most of the Jack Daniels left in the bottle, he tried to numb the memories that had resurfaced when he'd found out Shaye had been manhandled in such a way it had left bruises. He probably shouldn't have hit Phil, but the man's face had turned into his father's and before he knew, he'd slugged the guy. Flashbacks were a pain in the ass.

Roger knew something was wrong and had tried making him talk, but he refused to expose his partner to the source of filth that lived deep inside his memories. Nathan Riggs had done more than beat him up; that man had broken his mind into so many pieces that he'd never be able to put it all back together again.

The moment before he'd punched Phil he'd been back at home with his father kicking him when he was already down, curled up on the floor, and desperately trying to protect his head and neck from the most savage kicks.

Just one of those things was enough to make him start drinking again, but all of them combined? They'd pushed him over the edge and he'd fallen into that abyss without a chance of escape. Now that he'd finished one bottle, he opened the next, put it to his lips and resumed drinking – he was drowning in so many ways.

"Martin?"

Apparently he was drunk enough to hear voices! Since Brooks wasn't here, he proclaimed himself officially insane. Hearing voices was new!

"Martin, I'm coming in."

That was definitely weird. Frowning, he lowered the bottle and stared at the liquid. Maybe he should see Cahill in the morning and have himself committed, spare her the hassle of having to hunt him down. The door opened unexpectedly, causing Martin to reach for his gun. It might be Brooks' voice, but the boy inside him feared it was Nathan Riggs playing games. What if daddy dearest had tracked him down and was here to end him? To finally finish what he'd started all those years ago?

Brooks found himself starring down the barrel of Martin's Beretta. He fought to stay calm, knowing yelling at the other man would only cause complications. The air inside the trailer was stifling and stank of booze. Martin sat on the floor with his back against the kitchen unit. In his left hand he held a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels and his right still aimed a gun at him. It seemed he'd arrived just in time to prevent the worst.

"Martin? What are you doing? Lower that gun and stop drinking!" He'd acted at once after receiving Roger's phone call. His friend had told him about Martin punching a civilian and the way the Texan had frozen the moment before it happened. Both Roger and he had seen too many survivors not to recognize the tell tale signs of past abuse. It had urged him into action and the moment he'd been able to leave, he'd gone straight to the trailer. He should never have agreed to attend that leadership seminar, but he'd known refusing might cost him his position as a LAPD captain.

"You're not real," Martin whispered. He had trouble voicing his thoughts. For some reason his lips, tongue, and brain refused to function properly. "You're not here."

"Well, I am, and it appears not a minute too early. Put down the gun, Martin. It doesn't do to threaten your captain." Brooks carefully advanced on the drunk man and eventually sat on his heels next to him, hoping to appear less threatening that way. Something in those brown eyes warned him to proceed with caution.

Martin lowered the weapon and it dropped onto the floor. He narrowed his eyes, trying to make sense of what was happening. Was it really Brooks? It wasn't his father, he knew that for sure. Nathan Riggs would have hit him by now.

"What are you doing, Martin? Give me that." Brooks gently freed the bottle from Martin's fingers and placed it aside. Now that he'd removed all potential weapons, he felt a bit more confident. At least Martin couldn't club him with that bottle. "Why are you on the floor?" he asked, trying to distract the seemingly entranced man.

"What?" Martin blinked. What kind of question was that?

"How much did you drink?" Looking about, Brooks encountered several empty beer bottles, an empty bottle of scotch and the Jack Daniels Martin had been in the process of drinking. At least he didn't see any weed. Combining drugs always complicated matters.

"Not enough," Martin mused as he cocked his head and tried focusing on his visitor. "Why are you here and not there?"

"I left the moment the seminar ended." Brooks spied some bottled water, uncapped it, and handed it to the younger man. "Drink that instead." Sobering up Martin would be hard. Maybe it was best to let him sleep it off.

"That's water!" Martin complained, giving the bottle a disgusted look. He wasn't drinking that!

"Yes, it is. No more booze for you. I thought you were sober these days!" While removing empty beer bottles, bullets, and even a knife from the couch, he shook his head in disapproval. "I can't leave you alone, can I?" The next time he had to go away he would make sure Roger, or maybe even Todd, kept a close eye on Martin . "Let's do this."

Martin had no idea what the older man was up to, but caught on when Brooks tried to haul his sorry ass onto the couch. He moved along, trying to cooperate, but he was sluggish and his body a dead weight.

In the end, Brooks managed to move him onto the couch. After gathering a blanket, he covered Martin with it and then sat down in the chair, which he pulled closer to the couch. "What did you do to yourself?" he muttered beneath his breath.

"I got drunk," Martin said, thinking it self-exploratory.

"I can see that. But why?" Brooks decided against bringing up Roger's phone call. Martin should be sober when discussing that.

"Didn't want to feel," Martin confessed weakly. He closed his eyes, turned onto his side facing away from Brooks, and pulled the blanket over his face, hiding from the memories and most of all from Nathan Riggs. The bastard would probably find him in his nightmares though. He knew better than to think he'd escape that monster.

"We'll talk about that when you're sober," Brooks said decisively. "Sleep it off. I'll stay. You're not alone, Martin." No way would he leave the young man alone tonight. He'd keep a close eye indeed.

"Suit yourself," Martin mumbled, already half asleep. He didn't want to go to sleep though – it was where the monster lived, ready to pounce on him and draw him under.

"Martin, you're safe. Just sleep it off. I'll watch over you." Brooks noticed the tension in Martin's body and the way he'd covered himself with the blanket, as if hiding himself from view.

Emotionally exhausted and with the booze wrecking havoc on his system, Martin's body shut down. He slipped into sleep without realizing it.

"I do hope you have coffee though," Brooks pondered. He had the feeling he was in for a long and exhausting night.

/

His suspicion turned out to be true. Throughout the night, Martin suffered from several nightmares. Brooks did his best to soothe the restless man, but Martin would crawl away from him, begging him to stop. It didn't take Brooks long to realize why Martin was trying to get away from him; namely in order to avoid getting kicked and punched. While dreaming, Martin didn't fight back, he just took the abuse and whimpered.

When morning came, Brooks felt every bit as exhausted as Martin looked. He'd finally found out why Martin had been put into foster care; he'd been brutally abused at home. Martin kept begging his father to stop hurting him. Each time he heard it, the plea broke his heart.

The first rays of sunlight finally touched the trailer and warmed the interior, bathing everything in a soothing, golden light. Brooks soaked up the light, letting it warm him. Martin would wake up soon, and then he had to deal with the emotional storm that would surely follow.

/

Martin's mouth felt awfully dry. His back hurt, his head pounded like mad, and his body protested even the smallest motion. He suffered hangovers before, but seldom to this extent. Not to mention the nightmares that had tormented him throughout the night. He felt like both an emotional and physical wreck. Ever since he'd started working for the LAPD he hadn't taken a day off, but he might have to do so today. He was in no shape to work.

"So, you finally decided to rejoin the living?"

Hearing Brooks' voice so unexpectedly, and even worse, from so close, sent a shock through his system. What the fuck?

"Not feeling great, I assume? Do you keep aspirin here?"

Did he smell coffee? It almost sent him hurling, but he managed to repress the reflex. "What?" he managed – barely though.

"I don't think there's a magic hangover cure for you today. Aspirin might help. Lots of water too." Brooks nursed his coffee and watched Martin slowly turn onto his other side. Scruffy hair hid some of Martin's features, but when those brown eyes opened, he saw the shame in them. Martin instantly closed them, probably because the sunlight hurt, but that single moment had been enough. Martin knew what had happened last night; he remembered it all.

"What are you doing here?" He spied at Brooks from between half closed eyelids. The light hurt, but the discomfort was bearable. He'd brought this down on himself, so he should also bear the consequences.

"Looking after you." Brooks sipped from his coffee and carefully studied his charge. "Are you still tired?"

"A bit, but I'll manage." Dialing down the pain, he pushed himself upright. He instantly regretted it though as nausea hit him.

Brooks however was prepared, handing Martin the waste basket to throw up in. He sat down next to him and moved the unruly hair away from the face. It didn't taken Martin long to empty his stomach and Brooks quickly went outside to dispose of it. Once back, he offered him the bottled water again, which the Texan accepted.

He felt marginally better now that he'd gotten it all out of his system and gratefully drank the water. Having Brooks watch him throw up was something he wasn't proud of and he cringed, realizing what a pitiful impression he made. "Sorry," he whispered, apologizing for his behavior.

"That's not necessary," Brooks assured Martin. "We should focus on you being comfortable for the time being. You do realize we need to talk about this?"

Which made Martin cringe all over again. He didn't want to talk it over! But then again, he figured he owed Brooks some answers. "Not now," he begged, as his head was killing him.

"Not yet," Brooks agreed, "But soon. I do want answers, Martin."

Hearing that caused shivers to run down his spine. Brooks knew too much already, especially now that the older man knew about his nightmares. He knew he tended to trash in his sleep and to get vocal when the dreams were at their worst. Molly and Jack had often stayed with him when he'd had an especially bad night. He should be grateful Brooks was giving him the time to recover.

"Can you eat?"

Brooks' question almost trigged another bout of nausea. "Please, no food," he begged. He didn't have much to eat at the trailer any way.

"You're missing out on an amazing sandwich," Brooks hinted as he uncovered the food and started eating. Seeing Martin's confusion, he explained, "Todd dropped off some supplies before heading to work. I come fully supplied!" Hopefully some humor helped defuse the situation.

So Brooks had dragged Todd into this mess too? Martin sighed and pressed deeper into the comfort of the couch. Sitting upright was taxing and he desperately wanted to get horizontal again.

"Still nauseous and tired?"

Martin nodded carefully. "Yeah."

"Then lie down and get more sleep. It's probably the best cure for now."

Martin didn't need to be told twice. He stretched onto his side, pulled his knees close to his chest and covered himself up with the blanket. "You don't have to stay." He didn't want Brooks cooped up in here with him. "You should go to work."

"No, I'm not supposed to return from that seminar until tomorrow, so we're good." He'd rather monitor Martin.

"You'll get bored," he whispered, already on his way to drift back into sleep again.

"I can deal with that." Brooks watched the young man go back to sleep and then finished his sandwich. While getting a refill, he examined the trailer more close, encountering a shitload of weapons and several military items. Martin was well prepared in case of an attack. He sat down again and continued to study the Texan, trying to come up with ways to address the real issue later.

/

His headache had thankfully receded when he woke up the next time. His stomach felt empty and he was hungry, which was a sure sign that the worst was behind him Stalling, he kept his eyes tightly closed, listening to the soft swooshing sound of waves drifting into the trailer. A refreshing breeze had removed all remaining stench from his drinking excess and rays of sunlight warmed his skin.

"I know you're awake," Brooks said, calling Martin on his act. "You should eat and drink some water. Maybe even shower if you feel up to it. You look a bit more human than before," he quipped, despite the fact that he genuinely worried about the younger man. This time around the nightmares hadn't been that bad, but Martin's sleep had been restless nonetheless.

Martin pushed the blanket out of his way and gingerly met Brooks' questioning gaze. "I feel better," he acknowledged, wanting to reassure his captain. "I'm sorry about everything," he apologized, guiltily.

"As I said earlier, apologies aren't necessary. What do you want to do first? Eat or shower?"

"Is that your way of telling me that I stink?" Martin joked, but his heart wasn't in it. He smelled, he knew that. "Shower first, I guess." He pushed himself to his feet, tested his balance which proved fine, and headed for the shower. "I'm guessing telling you to go home won't work?"

"That's correct," Brooks replied, feeling relieved at seeing Martin steady on his feet. "I'm making more coffee. You want some too?"

"Yeah." Now that his stomach cooperated he could do with some caffeine. He retreated into the shower, striped, and tossed his dirty clothes in a corner. Stepping beneath the feeble spray he tried to clean himself up. He even washed his hair for once. A few minutes later, he wrapped a towel around his wet hair, and after drying his skin, wrapped another one around his waist. Damn, he'd forgotten to bring some clothes in here.

Stepping back into the trailer's main area, he found the table set with coffee and sandwiches. Somewhere in the back of his mind he recalled Brooks telling him that Todd had dropped off food earlier in the day.

Considering the Texan's lifestyle, Brooks was surprised to find the younger man in such a good physical shape. Martin didn't strike him as the kind of guy who hit the gym regularly and yet, he was all rippling muscle. Nature had indeed been kind to Martin Riggs.

"Just getting dressed." Martin picked up boxers, a relatively clean shirt and passable jeans, which he quickly slipped into. He ran a hand through his unruly mob of hair in an attempt to tuck the long strands behind his ear. However, his hair tended to curl when it was wet and he merely succeeded in messing it up further.

Eventually he sat down opposite Brooks and mouthed a thanks upon accepting a mug of hot, black coffee. "I really screwed up, didn't I?" He buried his fingers in his damp hair, thinking he should apologize properly.

"It could have been worse," Brooks stated, which drew Martin's attention. Now that he'd established eye contact, he continued, "You didn't blow up the trailer, didn't demolish the beach, and you're alive! You're even in one piece, I consider that a win!" Catching Martin chuckle, he realized their friendship was still intact and maybe even stronger than before. Martin had truly bonded with him.

"I happen to like this beach. It was Miranda's favorite spot. She always came here to think."

That explained why Martin had picked this beach to park his trailer on. Brooks noticed the open expression, the tell tale signs of nervousness haunting the Texan and knew he had to be careful. "Eat something."

Reluctantly Martin picked up a sandwich and started eating, not really tasting a thing. He knew this was merely the beginning. Brooks wouldn't let this go, and maybe, deep down in his heart, he counted on his captain to call him on his bullshit. "What do you want to know?" he asked after finishing the sandwich. Although his stomach behaved, he didn't want another one. Maybe later, once Brooks had finished interrogating him.

A lot, but he knew better than to overwhelm Martin, who was still struggling with what had happened. "While I was at that seminar, Roger called me. He told me you'd punched a civilian named Phil. Apparently he'd left bruises on a girl. Roger mentioned you freezing up before you hit the guy. Why don't we start with what happened there?"

Martin nodded; realizing only too well that there was no easy way to do this; he just had to face it and man up. "Yeah, I did punch the guy. He was an abusive bastard."

Brooks tried to make eye contact again, but this time, Martin's gaze was fastened on his coffee mug. "What happened when you froze? Roger has this theory, but I want to hear it from you."

Martin sat back, rested his head against the back of the couch, and stared at the ceiling. He really didn't want to do this, but Brooks would find out sooner or later. If he got this over with now, they might be able to move on. Or maybe he'd lose the guy's friendship because of what happened to him as a kid. He hoped not.

"Martin, I won't judge. I merely want to understand what you're going through. I'm your friend and here to help." Hopefully Martin knew that in his heart, if not, he would remind him.

"It was a flashback, all right?" Martin closed his eyes, his brow furrowing and his lips forming a tight line.

"A flashback," Brooks repeated, making sure he was getting it right. "What did you remember?" If Martin's nightmares were an indication of the Texan's youth, he had a pretty good picture of what had made Martin punch the guy.

Martin opened his eyes, but stared into his coffee. He couldn't do this while looking at Brooks. "My father used to beat me up. I always had bruises, but I learned to hide them. Jackets cover up a lot, so do long-sleeved shirts and turtle necks." Oh, how he still hated wearing turtlenecks!

Hearing his suspicions confirmed, merely urged Brooks to support the younger man. "Is that why they moved you into foster care?"

Now that was a question he didn't want to get into. "It's complicated," he muttered, hoping Brooks would let it go.

Realizing he needed to back off a little, Brooks tried a different question. "Is it safe to say your father was an alcoholic?" Martin must have gotten his preference for booze somewhere.

"Yeah." Martin sipped and the bitter taste of coffee slid down his throat. "It wasn't that bad while mother was still alive. He got worse after she killed herself." Okay, he hadn't wanted to let that slip either! He looked at Brooks, saw the shock on the older man's face, and quickly returned to staring into his coffee. Why the hell hadn't he thought to phrase that differently? Why hadn't he said – after she died?

"Your mother committed suicide?" Brooks felt in way over his head, but wasn't giving up now that Martin was finally opening up to him. Things were much worse than he'd feared!

"She had cancer and chemo wasn't working. She put a gun to her head and blew out her brains," Martin stated emotionlessly. If he allowed his emotions to get the better of him now, he would end up doing something utterly stupid.

Brooks swallowed hard, feeling for the young man, who was so clearly hurting and fighting so hard to hide it. "I'm sorry."

Martin shrugged. "Not your fault, so don't feel bad about it! That's life." And life was a bitch out to get him.

"So when you punched Phil," Brooks said, trying to get back to safer grounds – relatively safer, "you were remembering what happened at home?"

"In a way," Martin admitted. "I never fought back. My father is build like a brick wall. Even if you hit him, he doesn't budge. And when I was a teenager, I didn't have the punch I pack now. Fighting back only cost energy, which I needed in order to get away from him. When I realized Phil had hurt that girl, I snapped. It won't happen again," he quickly reassured Brooks, hoping his captain wouldn't suspend him over the incident.

"The guy had it coming as far as I'm concerned," Brooks said, shrugging, trying hard to reassure Martin.

"Thanks," mumbled Martin, finishing his coffee. Since the door to the trailer was open, he looked at the waves rolling towards the beach. This was heaven and hell in one. It was the place where he felt closest and the furthest away from Miranda.

They still had a lot to discuss, Brooks knew that, but he also realized Martin was hurting too much to tell him more. So he decided to address it later, when a better opportunity came along. Following the direction of Martin's gaze, he said, "This is a nice spot. I love the sea. I used to be a surfer, but nowadays I hardly find any time for it."

Relieved that Brooks was giving him some breathing space, Martin managed a weak smile. "Never surfed myself. I had to do a lot of swimming and diving as a SEAL. The water was often freezing and the chill always crawled into my bones." Or boiling hot and it would scorch his skin, making it feel like he was burning alive. But he didn't add that; Brooks' expression told him the guy got what he was trying to say. "So what happens now?"

Brooks studied Martin closely and smiled. "Well, we're both back to work in the morning, so we should use the remaining time well. We can watch a little television, stroll down the beach, or go for proper food. What do you feel up to, Martin?" The smile that suddenly surfaced on the younger man's face lit up his features. He had no idea what he had done to cause it though.

"Maybe burgers," Martin suggested. He was ready to eat a decent meal now that his stomach continued to behave. Giving his captain a shy look, he added in a thoughtful voice, "Thanks for not pushing the matter."

"I won't pressure you into talking when you're clearly uncomfortable with the idea. We have time." Brooks got to his feet, stretched, and turned toward the doorway. "Do you know a place which serves decent burgers?"

"The best!" Martin stepped into his boots and followed the older man outside. Opening up hadn't been as bad as he'd feared. Brooks had come through again.

TBC


	22. Chapter 22

Debriefing Riggs

Season 2

Episode 4

Flight Risk

/So what if Avery hadn't walked one way and Riggs the other and they'd both ended up staring at the Winchester on the desk?/

"Is that the rifle Deputy Chief Santos inquired about?" Finding it on Martin's desk was rather unexpected and the Texan looked truly upset. Roger had said that Martin went dead right before punching Phil. Now it was happening again. Martin seemed frozen in shock.

Seeing the rifle that unexpectedly triggered another flashback. Suddenly he was back at the house, his father looming over him, ready to kill him and Jake firing the rifle. Composing himself took a moment, but the managed to respond."Yeah, it is. Damn thing is like a boomerang." Martin didn't want to be anywhere near it, let alone touch it. Merely knowing it close made his skin crawl.

"Well, it can't stay here." Now that Martin remained frozen, Brooks acted instead. "Want me to lock it away in my office?"

Martin shook his head and pointed at the damn thing. "You don't want to keep that accursed rifle in there." He didn't want anything that had once belonged to Nathan Riggs in his captain's office, feeling the item would contaminate Brook's personal space. His hand shook when he wrapped his fingers around it. The metal seemed to burn his skin and he almost dropped it.

"Let me," Brooks said firmly, catching the Winchester before Martin could drop it. "There's a story here," he muttered, unsure the other man would share his history with him. "Why don't we call it a day?"

"What are you going to do with that thing?" Martin closely eyed the rifle, suspicious of whatever trouble it might cause. He'd gotten rid of it for a reason!

"I'm locking it away in my office and then we're going to talk. Don't go anywhere. I want you to stay here until I get back, Martin." Brooks made sure to put the right amount of emphasis in his voice. Hopefully the other man would comply.

Martin watched as Brooks returned to his office, unlocked a closet and put the rifle inside.

After turning the key, Brooks pocketed it and returned to Martin's desk. Thankfully, the Texan was still there, waiting for him. The young man looked haunted and Brooks knew better than to tell Martin to go home and get some rest. He didn't know what frightened him, but he realized they needed to talk. "You're coming home with me."

"Cap…" Martin winced at seeing the disapproval on the older man's face and quickly corrected himself. "Brooks, that's a bad idea. I don't want to infringe on your privacy and I doubt Todd's eager to share your company with me."

"Don't worry about Todd," Brooks said, his frustration clearly showing. "Now grab your coat. We're leaving."

Brooks being stubborn was quickly becoming a recurring thing. Martin considered objecting again, but past experiences had shown him just how little Brooks tended to listen to him when his captain was in that particular mindset. So he picked up his jacket instead and followed him out of the bullpen. He hoped Brooks would forget about the rifle, but doubted it. Knowing the older man, he'd make him spill his guts.

/

Martin recalled being in this street before, trying to catch their attention before he'd headed for Mexico. Back then he'd only seen his captain's home from the outside, this time he was being dragged inside.

He liked it. It wasn't over the top like many of the homes in the Hills. He reckoned Brooks didn't come from a wealthy home, average probably, and had stayed true to his roots. The interior was tasteful, not tacky. The best thing was the big, comfortable couch that dominated the living area.

"Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable. I'm getting us something to drink, and no, no alcohol!" Brooks pointedly ignored the disappointment in those brown eyes. "Cahill told me you don't drink tea first thing in the morning. I hope you can stomach it in the evening."

Fuck, he hated tea! He stole a sidelong glance at the well-stocked house bar, but didn't act on the impulse. Instead, he walked over to the window and studied the quiet road. It really was a nice spot to live.

"Here," Brooks said a few minutes later as he handed Martin some of Todd's favorite Rooibos tea. It lacked caffeine so Todd always made him drink it when they were at home.

Martin sniffed and instantly disliked it. "Really?"

"Really, now sit down." Brooks gestured towards the couch.

Martin collapsed on the couch, hoping he wouldn't end up staining it. He couldn't recall the last time he'd washed his jeans. "A nice place you got here."

"Yeah, Todd picked it and I instantly liked it. We've been living here for five years now."

"It's home," Martin realized.

"It is," Brooks agreed and nodded once. They could stall forever, but they needed to address the problem at hand. "So tell me about the rifle, Martin. You didn't merely look stunned to find it on your desk. You looked like you had seen a ghost."

Although he detested the tea's flavor, he sipped anyway in a desperate attempt to stall.

"Maybe dragging it into the open helps. Talking does ease the burden," Brooks started, hoping to convince Martin to confide in him. "I've been a cop for over twenty years and saw some pretty messed up stuff. I found that talking does help."

Brooks meant well, Martin knew that. "This isn't easy," he whispered, sipping again. Bah, why couldn't Brooks pour him scotch instead?

"Try. I won't force you to tell me anything you're uncomfortable with. I'll take whatever you want to share with me." Brooks wanted Martin to know that.

It wasn't like Brooks could make him talk, Martin knew that, but hearing it helped. "That's the rifle my daddy taught me how to shoot with," he offered; it was more than he was comfortable with, but Brooks deserved to know some bits and pieces.

Brooks wrapped his fingers tightly around the mug, holding onto the warmth it radiated. He sat down opposite Martin and nodded encouragingly. "You mentioned your father before."

"Yeah, daddy dearest has a thing for guns. That Winchester is an heirloom; it belonged to my granddad."

Seeing the way Martin's expression dulled, Brooks wondered if he should do this. Maybe he should leave this to Cahill instead, as she was the professional. If only he could be sure Martin would open up to her. Martin needed someone to turn to, and if that was his captain, so be it. "Sounds like you grew up in a violent home," he mused. Martin's mother had committed suicide, shooting herself, and now this Winchester had returned to make Martin's life miserable.

Martin shrugged and placed the now empty mug onto the coffee table. "At the time, I thought the way we lived was normal. I didn't have much of a comparison. We lived in the country side and our closest neighbor lived miles away." Molly and Jake had been his only friends and they hadn't been around all the time.

"So why does that rifle scare you?" Brooks phrased it like that on purpose as he wanted to see Martin's response to it.

"Scare?" Martin rubbed his chin and considered the question. "It's more like an ugly reminder of how bad things were back then. I wanted to forget about all that."

Martin was going to make this difficult, Brooks could tell and he wasn't sure he should push. "Sounds like your father made your life hell." Once more, he phrased it that way for a reason.

"You can safely say that." Martin wished he had something to occupy his hands with. Since he didn't, he ended up fidgeting with the fabric of his shirt. "Are we done now?"

Brooks considered the question. "Do you think we're done?"

The way Brooks handled the situation reminded him of Cahill and he chuckled briefly. Had the other man been taking psychology classes? "Probably not, but I don't want to discuss this anymore."

"I respect that." Brooks decided to back off. "Is it okay if I keep that rifle locked away in my office?"

"Yeah." Martin nodded. "I'm okay with that." As long as he didn't have to lay eyes on it, he could live with that solution. "So, cap, time for me to head home. Not thanking you for the tea though! Not my kind of thing!" Now that the grilling was over, he returned to his usual game.

"Not necessarily. I haven't eaten yet and neither have you. We can order in or I can put some pizza in the oven. Stay for dinner. Don't leave yet." He didn't want Martin to sit in his trailer all alone and get drunk again.

Martin wanted to decline, but doing so was rude. Trish always invited him over for dinner and he had a hard time denying her too. Looked like he had the same problem where Brooks was concerned. "Pizza's fine."

"Great! Why don't we move this to the kitchen?" Brooks got to his feet and waited for his guest to do the same.

Feeling out of place, Martin wavered, but at seeing Brooks' hopeful look, he gave in and trailed after the other man. Maybe having dinner would be okay.

TBC


	23. Chapter 23

Debriefing Riggs

Season 2

Episode 5

Let It Ride

Brooks worried. Cahill had visited earlier and asked him to keep track of Riggs' whereabouts. Apparently the city had towed the trailer and Martin was homeless now. Brooks shared Cahill's concern and had already talked to Roger, who had assured him that he'd offered to take in the Texan. Martin, however, had refused. Brooks understood the reason why. Martin didn't want charity and the Murtaughs taking him in felt like that. It probably reminded him too much of the time spent in several foster homes.

Not backing down from this one, Brooks kept a close eye on his detective. He noticed the little things that told him that Martin was stressed. Running his hand through his hair more often, the overly dramatic gestures, the glitches to his voice, the strange expression in his eyes all clued him in. He'd gotten to know the young man rather well this past year and those things told him Martin was about to snap – big time.

It was up to him to make sure that didn't happen. So when night came and Martin said his goodbyes, he followed the man. He wasn't surprised to see Martin slip into his truck and when it stayed in place, he realized he intended to spend the night there.

Which wasn't happening. Now that he knew that Martin wasn't going anywhere, he quickly returned to his office, updated his instructions and had a last look at all urgent affairs. Once everything was in order for the night, he slipped into his jacket and headed outside.

Martin's truck was still in place – just as he'd expected. Brooks made his way over there and looked into the cabin. Martin was asleep, but fitfully. He wrestled with his jacket, which he'd pulled across his face. Recalling how bad those nightmares could get, Brooks judged it best to wake him. But before he could act, Martin woke up by himself.

Martin startled awake, his father still shouting at him, calling him Junior and little rabbit. Nathan was hunting him and he barely managed to reach his shelter, an old car, which he'd adapted to his needs. He quickly slid into the trunk, turned on the light, and listened closely. Nathan was still out there. Suddenly a thunderstorm exploded above their heads and made his father retreat.

Although awake, in his mind, Martin was still back there – hiding away in the dark night and shaking all over his body. His father's threats still roaring in his head.

Brooks felt alarmed when Martin suddenly sat upright. Although those brown eyes were open, there was no recognition in them. The nightmare still had a crushing hold on the young man. Martin didn't merely tremble, no, he shook violently all over his body. Brooks wondered if he was experiencing another flashback, probably brought on by missing the safety of the trailer. He'd expected Martin to struggle with losing his home, but this was much worse. "Martin?" he said eventually, though he doubted he'd be able to get through to the Texan.

Martin didn't even register the voice. Adrenaline rushed through his veins, urging him to run. He needed to feel safe and the trailer did that. It was his protection against the world and from Nathan Riggs in particular. He had to get it back or he'd lose his mind.

"Martin, don't overreact, okay? I'm coming inside." Brooks moved over to the other side of the truck, opened the car door, and waited for a reaction on Martin's part. Nothing happened though. Martin continued to stare blankly ahead and shook like a leaf. After Brooks slid onto the passenger's seat, he quickly removed the keys. Martin was in no condition to drive. If anyone was driving the truck, it would be him. "Martin, can you hear me?"

Martin blinked sluggishly. His body felt heavy and reliving those horrid memories made it hard to focus on the present. The past was too alive at the moment.

"Martin, I'm going to touch you. I want you to look at me, all right?" Somehow he had to establish a connection, otherwise he'd fail to reach him. Aware that Martin might react violently, he gently placed his palms against Martin's face and turned the other man's head toward him. "Martin, can you hear me?" The dead expression in those normally so expressive eyes frightened him. "I know you can do this. I have faith in you. Martin, come on, talk to me!"

The voice was all wrong. So were the fingers touching his face. His father was never gentle; Nathan would have backhanded him instead. So what was going on? He concentrated on the voice, trying to identify it.

"Yeah, that's better. Hey, Martin, what's going on? I was on my way home and saw the truck parked out here." It didn't matter what he talked about, as long as he did. He had the impression that Martin used his voice to ground himself. "It's raining and there's a thunderstorm heading this way. That's no weather to get caught up in." He rambled on, relief setting in when the look in Martin's eyes finally changed and cleared.

"Cap?" Martin had a hard time believing what was in front of him. What was Brooks doing in his truck?

"Hey there, it's good to have you back. You went someplace far away, didn't you?" Brooks stroked Martin's facial skin and then let go. "I thought I'd lost you for a moment."

Martin swallowed convulsively; he still felt lost. Lightning suddenly erupted from the dark skies above, and a moment later, thunder rolled towards them, making him flinch. Tonight was too much like the night he'd just flashed back to. Utterly embarrassed at Brooks finding him asleep in his truck because he was homeless, he quickly averted his gaze and stared at the steering wheel instead. Just when he'd thought he'd hit rock bottom, things got even worse. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"No need to apologize," Brooks told him, wondering what was up with constantly apologizing. "But we should go home. The weather forecast says it's going to be a bad night and I don't want to get caught up in a major storm."

"I have no place to go to," escaped Martin, immediately biting down on his bottom lip for letting that slip.

"Of course you do, and don't worry, I'm not talking about the Murtaughs. I know what they're like first thing in the morning," Brooks said and winked. "Now move your ass over onto the passenger's seat, cause you're not driving in your current state."

Martin sighed and complied. In his current state… That indicated Brooks knew a lot more than he was letting on.

Brooks quickly slipped back into the truck, occupying the driver's seat this time. He revved up the engine and started driving. Martin was uncharacteristically quiet, which worried him, but then again, the Texan was probably still recovering from whatever flashback he'd suffered.

"Where are we going?" Martin had no idea what Brooks was up to.

"Home. You'll stay in the guestroom and we'll discuss your situation in the morning." Brooks raised a hand when Martin started to protest. "It's not up for discussion, young man. Don't make me ground you!"

That last bit eased Martin's worries. Apparently they were still good. "I can sleep on the couch."

"The bed's way more comfortable, plus Todd might already have claimed the couch," Brooks said teasingly.

Too emotionally drained to put up a fight, Martin rested his head against the car window and watched the city pass him by. For the moment, he let Brooks take charge.

Brooks noticed the shift in Martin's mood and smiled, pleased that he'd gotten through to the younger man. "Everything will be alright eventually."

If Brooks really believed that the man was mad.

/

Twenty minutes later, Brooks pulled up to his house and shut down the car engine. Todd's car was already in the driveway, so his partner was home early. Good, he wanted them to meet. Martin needed as many friends as possible. Looking to his right, he found the younger man staring out of the window, sitting still and looking exhausted. Martin was dead on his feet and getting the Texan into bed was his first priority. "Come on, let's go."

Feeling miserable, Martin shrugged, but then followed his boss' lead. He got out of the truck and stepped into the pouring rain. The thunderstorm had shifted north, but the rain remained.

"Get moving!" Brooks pushed Martin in the right direction and they hastily made for the front door, which promptly opened. Smiling at his partner, Brooks quickly got inside. Seeing Martin was frozen in place, he pulled him along before closing the door again. "Hope you don't mind I brought a guest," he said, addressing his partner. "You remember Martin Riggs, don't you?"

Todd nodded. Brooks often talked about the Texan and he'd gotten to know Martin well through those conversations. "Always wanted to meet you! I'm Todd," he introduced himself. Due to his medical background, he found himself assessing the condition their guest was in. "Is he in shock?" he whispered into Brooks' ear.

"Looks like it," Brooks whispered back, making sure Martin didn't hear it. "I want him in a warm bed."

"Guestroom is ready and waiting," Todd said, this time addressing Martin. "Feel at home here. You're welcome."

"Thanks," Martin muttered beneath his breath, feeling awkward and distinctly out of place. He shouldn't be here. He had no business being here! But Brooks still had his car keys, damn it!

"I'll see you in the morning, Martin! I hope you'll join us for breakfast." Backing off and giving their nervous guest some space, Todd moved to the living room and got back to his novel. He'd check in on their guest during the night though. If Martin had been a patient of his at the hospital, he'd have wanted him watched.

"The guestroom's on the first floor," Brooks said and gave Martin a look that said he expected to be followed.

After rolling his eyes back – when Brooks couldn't see it – Martin climbed the stairs and followed him down the corridor.

"You'll find everything you need for the night," Brooks said as he opened the door. "Feel free to use the clothes in the closet." Todd's clothes would fit Martin, as the two men were of equal height and both athletically build. Sometimes, when Todd got home late after an exhausting work night and didn't want to disrupt his partner's sleep, he'd would crash in the guestroom."If you need anything from the kitchen, go get it. You know where it's located. You even have an en-suite bathroom, so use it!"

Martin nodded, still uncertain why he was letting Brooks get away with this. Maybe it was fatigue. Maybe he was done fighting for the moment. "I'll manage." If he was being honest, having a place to crash was beyond expectation. He'd been at wit's end when he'd woken up in his truck. For one insane moment, he'd considered getting dead drunk and stealing his truck back. Brooks had stopped him from making a fool out of himself.

"Good, now I need you to promise me something." Brooks crossed his arms and tried to look stern, though he suspected he was destined to fail. And he was proven right, seeing the hesitant smile on Martin's face.

"What kind of promise?" Did Brooks really think he could intimidate him? His captain had clearly never met the likes of Nathan Riggs, otherwise Brooks would have realized how futile his attempt was.

"Make sure you're still here when I check on you in the morning. Don't sneak out! I'm keeping the car keys and it's raining. Stay here, get some rest, and make sure you're still around for breakfast. Can you do that for me?"

Brooks could tell when he lied, Martin knew that, so he opted for the truth. "I'll make you that promise." He'd stay the night.

"Great!" Brooks was under the impression that Martin was sincere. "If something's wrong, get me. I mean it, I don't mind you waking me up." He gestured to his bedroom door so Martin knew where to find him.

He wouldn't do that. He didn't want to disturb the man's rest. "I'll be fine," he said reassuringly.

Brooks wasn't that sure, but stayed quiet. He was a light sleeper anyway and would hear Martin move about.

/

Martin Riggs was a man with simple needs. A bed was luxury as far as he was concerned, and after slipping out of his coat and removing his boots, he curled up on it. With his back tightly pressed against the wall and facing the doorway, he felt at ease. He wiggled until he'd managed to partly pull the duvet over his upper body and then closed his eyes.

Normally he never slept well in a strange bed, but tonight was different. Exhaustion quickly pulled him under and this time, he dreamt of chasing bad guys, jumping off buildings with Roger and eventually ending up in Brooks' office drinking scotch.

/

"He's sound asleep," Todd told Brooks as he joined his partner in bed. He'd been reading and had forgotten about time. So when he'd finally headed upstairs, he'd quickly checked on their guest. Pulling Brooks into his arms, he sighed contently. "Does this mean we're adopting after all?" he teased sweetly.

"I'm afraid it's already a done deal," Brooks admitted, as he made himself comfortable in his lover's arms. "Do you mind?"

"You know I don't." They had discussed this when Brooks had realized Martin was bonding with him. Todd was fine with it. He was a family guy, the more the merrier, and if their little family was being extended, he welcomed that. "Do you think he'll move in permanently?"

"I doubt it. Martin's a very private man. The trailer is his home for now. Maybe in the future he'll be able to move on, but not yet. I'll make some calls in the morning, see if I can pull some strings so he can get it back. He can't return to living on the beach, so we'll have to find somewhere safe when he can park it." But first he should find out if getting the trailer back was an option.

Todd considered the things Brooks had told him; that Martin had been placed into foster care at thirteen, had bounced around from one foster family to the next, and that the man's father had been an abusive drunk. "He's lucky to have you," he said and kissed his partner's brow. "We'll tackle this in the morning. Sleep tight, love."

Brooks closed his eyes and gave into the fatigue that had been building all day long. Now that he was at home and in the arms of the man he loved, he let go.

/

"Rise and shine! Breakfast is almost ready. You still have time for a quick shower though!" Brooks enjoyed himself immensely, waking Martin that way.

Martin, on the hand, growled and pulled the duvet over his head. He was comfortable, warm, and way too lazy to get up just yet!

"Don't be like that," Brooks chastised, catching his guest's growl, "we need to be at the precinct in one hour. Get moving!" Chipper and full of energy, Brooks moved downstairs, where Todd was already preparing breakfast. "Thanks," he whispered and kissed his partner as he poured himself coffee. "I need caffeine."

Todd grinned; there was no need to tell Brooks it was decaf. "Did you manage to wake sleeping beauty?"

"He growled at me, so it's safe to say he's awake. But that doesn't necessarily mean he's getting up." Brooks fixed his breakfast cereal the way he liked it, topping it with freshly cut fruit.

Todd watched, amused. "You're in a good mood today!"

"Well, I didn't have to worry about Martin getting himself into trouble last night. That does wonders for my sleep!" He started on breakfast and handed Todd the sports section of the newspaper.

Todd however, placed the newspaper section on the table and excused himself, heading upstairs instead.

Brooks grinned, wondering how Martin would deal with another mother hen in his life.

/

Martin forced himself to push down the duvet and leave the bed. Falling asleep with his clothes on was never a good idea. Most days he didn't bother cleaning up and simply headed for work. However, he was a guest here and maybe a quick shower would help making himself presentable for breakfast.

He dragged himself into the bathroom and raised an eyebrow at finding a tub there. For one second he felt tempted, but then dismissed the idea. He didn't have time for it. He stripped, stepped into the shower stall, and let the water revive his senses. He looked up because he heard some noise in the guestroom, but then shrugged it off. Making good use of the toiletries, he washed his hair, running his fingers through it and trying to prevent it from getting entangled.

When he was done, he opened the stall door and blinked at finding his clothes gone. He'd left them on the floor, hadn't he? So maybe he'd been right earlier and someone had been in here, removing his clothes. Why?

Keeping a large towel wrapped around his waist, he stepped into the guestroom. He could hardly show up at the breakfast table looking like this. Brooks mentioned clothes in the closet, so he ended up selecting socks, boxers, black jeans, a grey T-shirt and a black shirt. Surprised, he found they fit. After stepping into his boots, he moved downstairs, feeling ill at ease.

Brooks, who had finished breakfast by now, cocked his head. "You clean up good!" To his surprise, Martin blushed. "Come, we have food and coffee."

"Morning," Martin whispered as he gingerly accepted the invitation. He crashed in on the Murtaughs all the time, but this was different.

"You strike me as a bacon and eggs guy," Todd mused as he returned to the stove. "Just help yourself," he added, placing a plate filled with scrambled egg and bacon in front of their guest. He poured Martin some decaf and enjoyed the little trick he'd pulled on them.

"Thanks." Martin picked up the fork and poked at the scrambled egg.

"Aren't you hungry?" Brooks placed his newspaper aside and studied the younger man.

"My clothes are missing," Martin stated, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

"I put them in the laundry basket," Todd supplied. "Good thing we have plenty of clothes around," he said and winked conspiringly.

Martin had no idea what to make of the situation. Both of them acted odd. Maybe it was best to just roll with it.

/

Martin felt more himself while driving his truck to the precinct. Brooks, still acting annoyingly chipper, was on the phone. Martin didn't pay him any attention, still trying to get used to wearing clothes that didn't belong to him, having slept in a comfortable bed last night, and digesting a filling breakfast. The last time something similar had happened had been when Miranda and he had lived together.

Brooks ended his call and felt content. He'd called in some favors and Martin would get his trailer back shortly. The only question which remained was where to put it. The bay wasn't an option. Roger had a fairly large storage area, which was definitely an option. Or Martin could park the trailer near Brooks' home. The captain knew of a suitable spot. "Hey, Martin…"

Martin rolled his eyes back. Brooks starting like that could only mean trouble. "Yes, cap?"

Brooks let it slide, knowing Martin's feelings were all over the place. "I made some calls, pulled some strings, and you'll have your trailer back tomorrow. Where do you want to park it?"

Martin couldn't believe his ears. "You what?" He pulled over and stared at Brooks in surprise. "How did you do that? Trish told me I raked up a lot of fines! Those don't get paid by themselves!"

Brooks shrugged, enjoying himself. "You hardly ever claim personal expenses. Roger does so all the time. Let's say I moved some money around."

"You're not paying for them yourself, are you? Because I don't want that!" He'd draw the line at that!

"No, don't worry." Although it had crossed Brooks' mind. "So, where will you go?"

Martin had no idea. "You can't just spring something like that on me and expect me to have the answers!"

"You have till tomorrow five PM to make up your mind. I suggest you think about it. And you're welcome to stay another night. Todd likes having a guest he can spoil!"

Todd was a pleasant surprise, Martin readily admitted that. He liked the guy, but he still felt like he was intruding. "I'm not sure I should." Maybe he could get a motel room for the night? He knew better than to think that Brooks would let him sleep in the truck.

"Humbug!" Brooks grinned at the younger man. "We're having burgers tonight. You like those, don't you?"

"You don't play fair," Martin complained, but found himself smiling at the same time. "Okay, one more night, that's it." He could take care of himself and didn't want to infringe on their privacy more than necessary.

"We love having you," Brooks reassured him. "You're part of the family now," he added and winked.

And that was exactly what he'd tried to prevent from happening. Martin had little experience being part of one. The Murtaughs had shown him what a family unit was like, but he still felt sorely lacking. Martin stayed quiet and steered the truck back onto the road.

Brooks however wasn't worried in the least. Having Martin stay at his house felt right. He'd have offered a more permanent housing solution, had he thought the Texan would accept. But it was too early for that and so he decided to wait for a better opportunity.

/

In the end, Martin accepted Roger's offer to house the trailer at his place. He could tell Brooks was disappointed, but he felt it was best that way. He didn't want Brooks and Todd to get fed up with having him about the entire time. They'd tire of him, and by staying with the Murtaughs, Martin created some distance. The truth was that he was getting way too attached to Brooks and couldn't bear the thought of doing something stupid and losing the other man's friendship. Keeping a distance was best.

TBC


	24. Chapter 24

Debriefing Riggs

Season 2

Episode 6

Gold Rush

/Since I felt the exchange between Avery and Riggs in this episode was lacking, I wrote my own!/

The precinct was almost deserted. The day shift was signing off and the night shift still had to arrive. This was when the bullpen was at its most peaceful and therefore Brooks had waited for this moment to commandeer Martin into his office. "Riggs, I want a word with you," he said, maintaining his reputation as LAPD captain in front of the few remaining officers.

Martin knew this had been coming and so he'd stuck around, leaving it up to Brooks to make the first move. Stepping into the office, he tried his hardest to forget about the Winchester locked in the closet. The rifle Jake had shot his father with…

"How are you doing, Martin?" Brooks closed the door as he didn't want any eavesdroppers listening in on them.

"Still keeping it together," Martin said eventually, knowing better than to manipulate the older man.

"We're not doing this here." Brooks didn't feel comfortable discussing something that private at his office. Martin's gaze drifted toward the closet and Brooks realized how hard this was on the younger man. He hadn't fully realized how much of a burden that rifle was, but now he did. Thankfully it was safely locked away and couldn't do more damage. If only Martin would stop thinking about it. "Meet me at my place in an hour. Todd's working the late shift tonight so we'll be alone. I want to talk to you in private, not here."

Relieved at hearing that, Martin nodded. "I'll be there." That meant he had one hour to mentally prepare himself for what would be an ugly conversation. One, which he didn't want to have in the first place, but he owed Brooks for covering for him. After all, Jake had gotten away because of him and it was his captain who had to deal with the repercussions.

"Good, and don't worry, we're fine, okay? Just make sure you're there and don't start drinking." That was his biggest concern.

"I won't," Martin promised. "I'm going to swing by Molly's first to make sure she and her son are all right. Then I'll head for your place."

Brooks approved of that plan and found that getting drunk hadn't occurred yet to the Texan was reassuring.

/

"Don't get your hopes up," Brooks said, "it's non alcoholic." He handed Martin a beer and uncapped one himself. Brooks sat down opposite his guest and noticed the tension creeping into Martin's shoulders. The younger man thought he was in trouble. "You're not in trouble," he said at once. "I'm not mad at you for letting Jake get away. I'm worried, Martin. Not angry with you. There's a difference."

"You have every right to be mad with me." Martin fidgeted with the bottle, not sipping yet. He was nervous and wanted this over with. Brooks had questions and wanted answers. He didn't blame him.

Brooks decided to turn this around, hoping to draw Martin out of his shell that way. "Are you angry with me for unsealing Jake's juvenile records?" He vividly recalled Martin's shock when he'd realized his secret was out. Although, one of many would be more accurate.

"No," Martin whispered after giving the question some thought. "I know you had to get to the bottom of it. I'm just uncomfortable with you knowing what happened back then." He set the bottle aside. "I feel ashamed of..." His voice trailed off, unable to find the right words.

"You do know what happened wasn't your fault? If anyone is to blame it's your father." Brooks had been shocked to learn what had happened at the Riggs' family home. He'd figured out some things after witnessing those nightmares and Martin gingerly opening up to him. But the amount of physical abuse described in those files from social services was unconceivable. How could any father do that to his son? "You were the victim, Martin."

Hearing it made Martin shrink into himself. It was one thing to know that, to hear it was something else. "It had gotten to a point where I couldn't take it anymore. I pointed that rifle at my father and he taunted me, telling me to shoot him – to do him a favor and not to miss." His very soul hurt, knowing he'd never worked through that ordeal.

Brooks frowned. "I heard that before, haven't I? When you just joined us. That bank robbery…" Suddenly it all came back to him. After Roger and Martin closed that case, he'd listened to the audio material, wanting to know what kind of man the Texan was, who was now part of his team.

"Yeah, it sometimes happens. I try to rein it in, but… It's hard." He'd hoped that little detail had slipped Brooks' mind.

"Wow, I thought a lot of your problems stemmed from losing your wife, but this started way before that, didn't it?" Brooks tried to understand how such an abusive upbringing had damaged Martin and utterly failed at it. He'd never lived it, so how could he possibly imagine what it had been like?

"Probably. Life was never easy." Martin closed his eyes, rested his head back against the comfort of the couch, and started talking. "After mother died, things went downhill. My father drank constantly and he only had me to vent his anger on. That day me and Jake had gone joyriding and the officer chasing us told my dad. When he got home, he was beyond mad. He was drunk and when he got out his belt, I knew it would be bad. His eyes screamed murder, so I grabbed that rifle, hoping to chase him away. But he challenged me instead." Martin opened his eyes, tilted his head, and stared at Brooks. "I couldn't pull the trigger. I wanted to, but he's my dad. I couldn't shoot him."

Brooks nodded, relieved that Martin was finally talking. "Go on."

"He grabbed the Winchester and threw it onto the ground and then he…" Martin swallowed convulsively, reliving that moment in a shockingly physical way. His body hurt the way it had hurt back then and his face ached from when his father's belt buckle had torn into the tender flesh. He even smelled the cheap booze his father always drunk. "That evening, he didn't stop. I could tell he didn't want to. Suddenly everything happened too fast. One moment, my father was beating me, the next, he collapsed because Jake had shot him. Jake had picked up that rifle and pulled the trigger. "I was too much of a coward to do it and so he stepped up." Martin failed to fight back his tears and they dripped from his face. "He saved my life that day. Without him, I'd be dead now."

"What happened next?" Brooks refrained from commenting. First, he wanted Martin to get it all out in the open. He might be wrong, but he had the feeling the younger man had never talked about this before – not even with Cahill.

"Social services put me into foster care. I lost touch with Jake and Molly. Maybe I wanted to leave it all behind and start anew. Fat chance of that. I was too busy moving from one foster family or home to the next. You can probably imagine I gave them hell. I didn't care what happened to me. Even back then, I…"

"You felt guilty, but that guilt's not yours to carry," Brooks said, speaking up. "You probably still feel guilty, but you were a kid. Your father is the guilty party." Social services had been remiss in Martin's case. They should have tried harder, offered more support.

Martin shrugged. "Molly told me so, but it's hard to…" To view himself as a victim.

Brooks got that. "Martin, the things you went through… It blows my mind. No child should go through such an ordeal. You aren't to blame, do you hear me? This is all on your father."

Only now realizing that he was crying, Martin wiped away his tears, feeling embarrassed for being so emotional in front of Brooks. "I wasn't an easy kid," he whispered. "I gave him hell, especially after my mother died. I always got myself in trouble –"

Brooks determinedly cut him short. "Even if you were trouble, he should have kept his hands to himself." During his career as a cop, he'd seen numerous cases of domestic abuse and most of the time, the victims blamed themselves for having been beaten up. "Do you talk to Cahill about this?"

Shying back from discussing that, Martin shifted nervously on the couch. Eventually he shook his head. "No, I don't want her to know about this crap. She has enough to deal with while treating me."

"Martin, this is exactly the reason why she's treating you! She's trying to help you work through this." Exasperated, Brooks wondered what other things Martin kept from Cahill. "Try talking to her about it."

Martin shrugged noncommittally. "Talking to you is easier. I prefer that."

"Thank you for your trust, but Martin, I'm no professional. I can't help you deal with this the way she can." That Martin trusted him to such a degree was a miracle. If he'd been lived through all that trauma, he might not have been able to trust again. It showed just how strong Martin was. He could have turned out like Nathan, but he'd chosen the opposite path by joining the military and eventually the police.

"I still prefer you."

Accepting the inevitable, Brooks nodded. "You can always talk to me." Hell, he was grateful Martin was talking to someone about this! "So when you have those nightmares, you…" He left that sentence unfinished on purpose.

"They take me back home. My father won't leave me alone." Martin had had enough and was growing tired of having his past all dredged up again. He looked about the room, trying to focus on something else.

Brooks noticed and backed off. "Since you didn't like the beer, want some tea instead?"

The sudden change in subject threw Martin, but he welcomed it. "Nah, I'm good. I should be leaving." But his body felt heavy and moving was hard. He was so damn tired. Crashing on Brooks' couch sounded awfully tempting all of a sudden.

Seeing Martin tiredly eye him didn't surprise Brooks. Discussing this took its toll on the younger man. "Why don't you stay the night? I don't feel comfortable sending you home like that. I don't want you driving anyway."

Maybe the idea wasn't so bad; Martin was tempted to accept the offer. "I can crash right here." The couch was comfortable.

"No, you know where the guestroom's at. Move your ass upstairs."

"My ass? Captain Avery! Todd better not hear that," he teased, feeling more at ease now that they were done discussing his father.

Chuckling, Brooks wagged a finger at him. "Don't get cheeky with me. Get some sleep, Martin." Maybe the nightmares would leave him alone tonight now that he'd finally opened up.

"Yes, dad," Martin said, and for the first time, he enjoyed saying it. With Nathan things had been violent, but Brooks was so fucking different it blew his mind.

This time it was Brooks who winced at being called that, knowing Martin's experience with Nathan Riggs had been hell. "Get going, or do you want me to tuck you in?"

Martin laughed, warmly. Maybe Cahill and Brooks were right and talking helped? "Nah, I think I can manage. Night."

"Night, and don't leave without telling me. Todd will be disappointed if you're not around for breakfast." The smile Martin gave him was warm and genuine. The expression in those amber eyes had changed too. Maybe the monster that was Nathan Riggs had lost some of his power, and scared Martin a little less, now that the young man had finally gotten it off his chest.

"I'll stick around. You need a ride to work anyway, since your car is still at the precinct."

"How very considerate of you!" Brooks watched Martin move upstairs, and once the Texan was inside the guestroom, he let himself fall apart. He cradled his face in his hands, repeatedly shaking his head. He'd been strong for Martin, never showing how deeply this affected him, but now that he was alone, the horror of it all crept up on him. It was a good thing Todd would be home shortly, as he needed his partner's support.

TBC


	25. Chapter 25

Debriefing Riggs

Season 2

Episode 7

Birdwatching

Todd opened a bottle of wine, one of Brooks' favorites, and poured him a generous amount. In the back played some low key music and while he waited for his partner to join him, he picked up his book and resumed reading.

Brooks smiled; the homely scene was just what he needed after another mad day at the precinct. He moved into Todd's arms and made himself comfortable on the couch.

Todd put the book aside and frowned. "What's wrong?" Brooks was terrible at hiding his feelings; it was one of the many things he loved about the man. What you saw was what you got. Brooks never played games - he was always up front. The only thing that still needed work was the fact that Brooks tended to brood; to keep those things to himself that he thought would burden his partner. Todd however was more than willing to support his lover. "Let me guess, is this about Martin?" He'd grown fond of the Texan during the times he'd visited. He wished he could convince Martin that he wasn't invading their privacy, but the Texan was stubborn.

"I'm afraid so." Brooks hadn't wanted to bring it up, unwilling to ruin the romantic setting and the evening Todd had planned.

"What 's going on? I've never seen you this preoccupied. Things are getting worse then?" If he could help, he would.

"Martin made a rookie mistake and it's because he hasn't been sleeping. He's scared to sleep because of the nightmares. They're getting worse and he refuses to discuss them with Cahill. I asked her, and she said Martin keeps it locked away. It's eating him alive. If only he'd trust her!"

"He trusts you," Todd mused. "Maybe you should talk to him?"

"I tried, but he's running. Each time I corner him, he finds some reason to get the hell out of the precinct." Brooks frowned. "I'm not sure I'm the right person for him to talk to at any rate. He needs professional help. I can't give him that."

"You can give him something he needs even more; acceptance and a home. He trusts you for a reason, love. Don't doubt yourself like that." Todd kissed his lover's lips, but knew better than to start something. Brooks wasn't in the mood for it as his partner's thoughts circled around Martin Riggs. He respected that and held Brooks close instead. "What are those nightmares about?" Maybe discussing it would help Brooks in turn.

"His father. Nathan Riggs is a nasty piece of work. I told you about him beating up Martin regularly, preferably with his belt. I unsealed Martin's juvenile records the other day. Do you have any idea how many times he had to see a doctor for some so-called hunting accident? Way too many. There are lots of detailed reports regarding his injuries. Let it suffice to say they were severe and many."

As a trauma surgeon, he regularly operated on domestic abuse victims, who often suffered severe head trauma. He knew from personal experience how bad things could get. "And this friend of him, Jake, shot Nathan when he was beating up Martin again?" Brooks had told him bits and pieces, but not the whole story.

"Martin told me what happened that evening. He says his father was set on murdering him and I believe him. I've read up on Nathan Riggs, who has been in and out of prison on several charges. He's currently doing time for armed robbery. The man has a history of violence." He shifted slightly and rested his head against Todd's shoulder. "Jake shot Nathan that evening, but didn't kill him. While reading those files, I wished he'd done so after all."

"This really affects you." Todd wasn't surprised, not really. He'd quickly realized there was a really sensitive guy beneath the cop routine when they'd first started dating. It was one of the things that still attracted him to Brooks.

"It's wishful thinking," Brooks admitted. "But I can't help but wonder what will happen when Nathan gets out one day. He isn't doing life, so they have to release him eventually."

"Martin has you," Todd comforted his troubled lover, caressing his face and pressing another kiss onto Brooks' brow. "You do know that I'm fine with Martin moving in with us, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do, and I love you for it." He felt bad for neglecting his lover and rambling on about Martin instead, but he worried!

"Maybe you should call him, invite him over." A look at the clock told him it was ten PM and maybe a bit late for a social call, but he doubted Martin was asleep at any rate.

Brooks was about to reply when the doorbell interrupted him. He looked at Todd in surprise, but then realization set in. "There's only person I can think of who would show up at this hour."

"Let him in and talk to him. Make sure he gets to bed safely." Todd gestured for Brooks to get moving. "I'll head upstairs and give you two some privacy. However, if you need me, let me know. I have your back, you know that."

"I do," Brooks confirmed as he got to his feet, thankfully he hadn't changed into his pajamas yet. He hurried to answer the door, scared Martin might reconsider and take off again. And yes, the Texan was turning to leave the moment he opened the door. Boy, did Martin look bad! His hair was a mess, the eyes bloodshot, and dark rings had formed beneath them. A quick look told him that Martin's hands trembled and he shuffled his feet nervously, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have come here," Martin apologized, ready to take off again. What the hell was he doing here?

"Come inside," Brooks said and grabbed Martin's wrist, making sure the Texan couldn't run away again. "I'm glad you're here. I worried." He checked Martin's eyes, which appeared haunted, and he was under the impression the Texan was drunk. Not a good way to start.

Martin allowed Brooks to pull him inside. He didn't want to head back to the trailer anyway. His father waited for him there, making him breakfast in his dreams and serving him skin and bones in his nightmares. Nathan Riggs had poisoned his sanctuary. Not even Miranda could keep out the monster.

Brooks proceeded to guide Martin into the living room, where Todd was waiting for them. "Martin's staying the night."

"That's great," Todd replied, trying to reassure Martin, who looked sleep-deprived. The younger man fiddled with his coat, obviously trying to do away with his restless energy. "I'm making hot chocolate, do you want some, Martin?"

Todd's question took him aback, since Martin wasn't really paying attention to his surroundings or the two of them. He was busy fighting off Nathan's shadow which continued to tower over him, suffocating him.

"We'd both love some," Brooks decided for Martin. Todd went into the kitchen to prepare the hot drink and Brooks used the moment to guide Martin over to the couch. "Sit down before you collapse. When was the last time you slept? You look exhausted." It was more than that though, Martin looked broken, he realized with a heavy heart.

Martin collapsed onto the couch. He didn't know why he was here, or maybe that was a lie and he did know? Brooks made him feel safe, that was why he was here.

"Martin, I tried to talk to you at the precinct today, but you've been avoiding me." Brooks sat down and frowned at seeing the disconnected look on Martin's face. Physically the other man was here, but emotionally? Not so.

"I've been having these nightmares," Martin heard himself say, wondering why he was talking while he wanted to stay quiet instead. Part of his brain must be rebelling. "About my old man." He'd also told Roger, but had refused to elaborate. After his latest nightmare had left him shaken to the core, he'd decided to call on Brooks, hoping his captain wouldn't turn him away. "Then the nightmares got worse."

Brooks felt alarmed at hearing that. Martin's nightmares were bad, he knew that from personal experience. Something else had happened then, driving Martin over the edge.

At that moment Todd exited the kitchen and presented them with their hot chocolate. Martin accepted without realizing what he was doing, simply wrapping his fingers around the mug for heat. Todd had wanted to retire for the night, but seeing the state Martin was in, he reconsidered. It definitely looked as if Martin had drunk or resorted to other drugs. He ignored Brooks' questioning look when he sat down out of Martin's line of sight. He too wanted to keep an eye on the younger man.

Acting automatically Martin sipped and the hot chocolate gave him something to focus on, something to ground him. The taste, smell, and temperature tore him away from the thoughts running in circles in his mind. "It started off rather harmless," he heard himself say, as if listening to a stranger. "My dad made me breakfast."

Brooks exchanged an alarmed look with his lover. He'd never seen Martin this bad. Todd nodded, telling him he understood and supported him.

"He made me breakfast, can you imagine that?" Martin chuckled mirthlessly. "Turns out he was serving me skin and bone, fragments from where Jake had hit him. I choked and threw up."

Brooks' worries increased and Todd moved closer, sitting down next to him.

"Then, just now, I had another one. He was back at the trailer and placed a gun on the coffee table. I picked it up and aimed it at him." Martin sipped from his hot drink – something real in a world of terror. "He challenged me to do the thing I really wanted."

Brooks had the distinct feeling the worst was yet to come and he reached for Todd's hand, intertwining their fingers.

"Instead of shooting him, I wanted to kill myself." Martin scoffed. "He said I've got him inside me and he's right. I'm just like him. No matter what I do, I can't seem to get rid of him!" Drinking himself into oblivion hadn't helped either. He'd reached for the scotch the moment the nightmare had woke him up. Drinking hot chocolate was so anticlimactic that it made him chuckle.

"We can't leave him alone tonight," Todd said decisively.

Brooks concurred. "I'll stay with him for now. Get some sleep and relieve me in a few hours."

Todd considered their options. "And make him see Cahill first thing in the morning."

"I will," Brooks promised as he said goodnight to his lover, who went upstairs, leaving him to deal with Martin. "Finish that hot chocolate and then I'll tuck you in."

"Maybe I should talk to Cahill," Martin mused. "That last nightmare really got to me." He'd merely intended to think that, not say it aloud.

"That's an excellent idea, Martin." Brooks stopped the Texan from lying down on the couch. After retrieving the now empty mug from Martin's trembling fingers, he wrapped an arm around his shoulders, hoping it wouldn't trigger a violent reaction. "You need to get some sleep, Martin." But that was tricky. Sleeping meant suffering from nightmares. "I'll sit with you and wake you in case you're having a nightmare."

Martin was simply tired – tired of it all. "Can't you knock me out? Doesn't Todd keep any medication at home? I just don't want to dream. I'm okay with sleeping, but the nightmares…"

"Maybe I know of a solution," Brooks hinted as he guided Martin onto his feet. "How much did you drink?"

"Not that much. Some scotch and a couple of beers." He was tipsy, but a long way from drunk.

"That's a relief." While they'd talked Martin had started to calm down. "Let's do this." He pulled the younger man to his feet and guided him over to the staircase. Slowly, they made their way upstairs where he found the door to the guestroom open and the covers of the bed already turned down. "Sit down," he said, making sure Martin ended up on the bed instead of the floor.

Martin was tired and his eyes kept closing. He let Brooks do whatever his captain wanted.

Removing Martin's boots turned out harder than he'd thought, since his guest wasn't cooperating, but he managed. Now that the young man was curled up, he covered him with the duvet and tucked it in around the Texan. "Are you comfortable?" All he got for a response was a deep sigh, which he took for a yes.

Brooks wasn't prepared when Martin reached for him, wrapped an arm around him, and pulled him close. "So that's how it's gonna be?" he joked and moved along, knowing better than to fight the sleep drunk man. He lay down on his side, and although he felt awkward, encouraged Martin to move closer.

Martin was already half asleep and didn't even register pulling Brooks down with him. He curled up, feeling safe and warm for some odd reason. He wanted to stay that way.

Brooks didn't fight it. He understood why Martin couldn't be alone tonight. Martin moved closer and Brooks wrapped an arm around him, before the sleeping man rested his head against his shoulder. A moment later, Martin snored softly, asleep. Brooks rolled back his eyes and resigned to his fate, all the while wondering why these things happened to him.

"Well, I never suspected you'd end up in bed with him." Todd grinned naughtily, enjoying the picture they presented. "He's not your type at all!" Martin was sound asleep and Brooks looked ready to bolt. In spite of the seriousness of the situation, he enjoyed seeing his lover squirm."The two of you are adorable."

"This wasn't my idea!" Brooks pointed out and glared at his lover.

"Hey, I don't mind. Martin trusts you," Todd explained, growing serious again. "That's why he wants you close. After everything he went through, he's still able to trust. Do you know how amazing that is? And he chose you; keep that in mind. Now get some sleep, honey. I'll check on the two of you, but Martin might sleep through the night now that he isn't alone anymore."

Brooks preferred being in his own bed, holding Todd instead, but knew his partner was right. Martin trusted him and the young man needed him in order to feel safe. He wasn't going to desert him now.

/

His every instinct warned him that something was wrong. Waking up was something he did on his own, on his couch, and in his trailer. The warm body next to him therefore made him apprehensive. The fact that he was in a bed and not on his couch, made it even worse. What the hell had happened last night? Keeping his eyes tightly shut, he tried to deny the situation he currently found himself in. At least he still wore his clothes, which he counted as a win.

He should find out who he was in bed with. Realizing he'd wrapped his arms around that person told him that it was him holding on, making sure the other couldn't leave. That was the first thing he should rectify and he carefully loosened his hold on the other man. Man? Fuck, what was he doing in bed with another guy?

Panic set in and caused him to open his eyes. What had he done this time? Finding Brooks sound asleep next to him nearly freaked him out. Had he really dragged the older man into bed with him and held on? That was embarrassing!

What had made him do such a dumb thing? Nathan Riggs' ugly face suddenly appeared in front of him, grinning like mad. Seeing it made him flash back to that last, horrid nightmare he'd had in which he'd blown his own brains out, and not his father's.

Martin, suddenly gasping and struggling for breath, instantly woke Brooks, who sought out the young man's eyes. Damn, looked like he was experiencing another flashback! If only Cahill were here! She'd know what to do! "Martin? You're fine. Hey, listen to me and don't stay there. Don't let him win. Martin, can you hear me?" Since they were close, he cradled the younger man's face in his hands and turned his head toward him. "Look at me, Martin. You're safe!"

Just as fast as the flashback had sneaked up on him, it now released him from its crushing hold. Brooks' voice finally got through to him and he stared at the older man, surprised that he'd stayed close. Disgusted with his own behavior, he closed his eyes and tried to move away and give Brooks his space, but ended up with his back against the wall instead.

"Good, you're here again." Brooks had a pretty good idea where Martin's mind had gone. "Calm down and when you feel like it, go shower. Todd's probably making breakfast and I need to get ready too. We'll drive to the precinct together and you'll talk to Cahill." His tone left no room for discussion.

Meekly, Martin nodded. Yeah, he needed to talk to her, he was finally ready to admit that to himself. "I will," he promised and noticed Brooks' relief at hearing it. "Sorry for dragging you into this." Little by little he remembered driving over to Brooks' place, spilling his guts, and ending up asleep in the guestroom. He'd really made a fool out of himself this time.

"Don't be," Brooks said, upon seeing the guilt and shame in those brown eyes. "I'm glad you came here. My door's always wide open." He shuddered, trying hard not to think of all the terrible things that could have happened had Martin not come to him. This was the best possible outcome. "You ready to let me go now?" He grinned cheekily, hoping to diffuse the tension that way.

"Sorry," Martin offered again, only now realizing he'd tightened his hold on Brooks instead of releasing the man. "Don't know why I did that."

But Brooks didn't believe that. Martin needed to feel safe and he was more than willing to support him. "Hey, I'm honored you trust me to that extent," he said, recalling the things Todd had told him last night. He stretched, left their warm nest, and got to his feet. "No need to rush. Take your time and enjoy a long, hot shower." Martin didn't look entirely awake yet and he suspected a shower would help.

Martin elbowed himself into an upright position and nodded. "Thanks… for everything," he added after a moment's thought. He still felt confused, desperately trying to wrap his mind around what had happened last night. He'd told Brooks his worst fears and the older man hadn't turned him away.

"I'll see you downstairs. Grab some clean clothes, you might have spilled beer last night."

"I will." Martin knew he reeked of booze. So, apparently showering was his first mission: it was going to be a difficult day.

/

Todd wished he could help Martin deal with his past, but it was Brooks the Texan turned to and trusted. But he could show his acceptance and support by supplying breakfast, even though Martin mostly poked at the scrambled egg instead of eating it. At least he was downing the OJ and munched on some toast. Brooks was still upstairs and getting dressed. It didn't surprise him that Martin got to the kitchen first. "What did those eggs do to you that you keep stabbing them?"

Martin managed a weak smile. "I'm not hungry, sorry." He avoided looking at Todd, feeling ashamed for letting show how fucked up he really was. It was bad enough Brooks knew, but now Todd had seen him like that too.

Should he address last night or let it rest? Todd wasn't sure what the best course of action was, but something told him that pretending last night never happened wouldn't help Martin move on. "Did you manage to get some sleep last night? You still look exhausted."

Todd's question made Martin uncomfortable. "Sorry for hogging Brooks last night," he apologized. "I don't know why I did that."

"I don't mind sharing occasionally." Todd smiled reassuringly. "He makes a great portable heater."

Martin chuckled despite his worries. He really liked Todd. "Still, I shouldn't have done that."

"I don't think you planned it." Todd picked up his Rooibus tea and sat down next to his guest. "You do know that you're welcome to stay? Brooks and I would love for you to move in – no matter for how long."

"I can't do that," Martin whispered, feeling shy. He'd never expected Todd to make that offer.

"Think about it. Don't dismiss it yet." Todd took pity on Martin and poured him some real coffee, no decaf, thinking the man needed it. "We like having you here."

Martin bowed his head and stared at his coffee. He couldn't possibly ask them to take him on, not with his baggage. His crap would eventually ruin their friendship and he needed them; Brooks especially.

"Morning!" Brooks dashed into the kitchen and went straight for the coffee. "Ah, I need that!" After showering and dressing in his favorite suit he felt reborn. A look at Martin told him it was different for his detective. Well, it was still early and he hoped that once Martin talked to Cahill the day would improve for the Texan as well.

/

Brooks walked Martin to Cahill's office. She was already in, but busy and ignored them for the moment, something he was thankful for. He wanted a word with Martin before heading for the bullpen. "Talk to her. Tell her what you told me." Now that Martin had already told him, confiding in Cahill might be easier.

"Can I ask you for a favor?" Martin gingerly made eye contact and scratched his neck.

Whatever it was that Martin needed from him, asking for it was hard on the younger man. "Of course, what is it?" From inside the office, Cahill gave them worried looks.

"Can't you stay? I don't think I can do this on my own." The moment Cahill dived into his nightmares he'd freeze up, he just knew that as it had happened before. He'd distract her and flee the office. He needed someone like Brooks to make him sit through it and spill his guts.

"Are you sure about that?" Brooks hadn't seen that one coming, but maybe he should have. Martin felt safe with him and opening up to Cahill was hard.

"Yeah, I'm sure." Martin involuntarily held his breath, hoping Brooks would consent.

"Okay, I'll stay, but if you want me to leave at any point, just tell me!" If having him close made Martin tell Cahill about his father, he'd stick around. "Let's do this," he said, and opened the door to her office.

Maureen observed them and realized something that had previously eluded her. Riggs was comfortable around Avery. Maybe it was even more than that, seeing her patient remained in close proximity to the older man. When had they started to bond? It was the best thing that could happen to Martin Riggs, who needed as many surrogate family members as possible. "Morning, Riggs, captain."

They both nodded at her, acknowledging her presence and then went to sit on the couch. "Captain?" What was happening? She felt excited, wondering if something had finally clicked into place for Riggs.

"I asked him to stay," Martin said, trying hard to calm down. For some reason, his heart was going a million beats a minute, or at least it felt that way.

Cahill sat down and continued to study them. She smiled happily. Something good had finally come Riggs' way! "If that makes you comfortable, the captain is more than welcome to stay." So Riggs needed and wanted Avery's support? That was a huge step in the right direction.

"I think we should talk," Martin said after exchanging a look with Brooks, who nodded encouragingly. "About my old man. Brooks already knows what went down and wants me to tell you too."

Brooks? Cahill carefully hid her reaction. She measured the smile she gave him, not wanting to appear too eager. She desperately wanted to know why Riggs trusted Brooks to such an extent, but she would be careful. First, they had to address Nathan Riggs and that would be extremely taxing, on all of them.

TBC


	26. Chapter 26

Debriefing Riggs

Season 2

Episode 8

Fork-Getta-Bout-It

Martin was still smiling when he left Molly's place. It was good to have her back in his life and he loved spending time with Ben. He might not be a white picket fence kinda guy, but he was a family man. With Miranda he'd never gotten the chance to find out what kind of dad he would be, but now that Molly and Ben were around he realized he loved being a part of that little unit.

He picked up the apple pie he'd promised Brooks and Todd and headed for their place. Lately, he'd been spending more time with them than at his trailer. He even kept a spare outfit at their place and the guestroom was slowly becoming his second home. At first, that had frightened him, but Cahill had pointed out that it was a good thing and nothing to be scared of.

It was hard to believe how much his life had changed for the better. After that first session with Cahill, when he'd still needed Brooks' support, he became a regular and willing visitor to her office. This time around, he actually talked. He told her things about his old man, spending time in foster care, and befriending Brooks and Todd. The smile she gave him lately had changed. It wasn't mocking or challenging him. She genuinely felt he was making progress, which meant more to him than he'd thought possible.

He pulled up to the driveway and shut down the engine. During these last few weeks his nightmares had grown less. Sometimes, he'd still dream of his old man, but it wasn't that intense. He still woke up spooked, but managed to handle the terror without reaching for his booze. Instead, he talked to Brooks or Cahill. He still preferred Brooks though. For some reason opening up the older man was less painful.

Carefully carrying the apple pie, he made his way over to the house and rang the bell, ignoring the fact that Brooks had given him his own key yesterday. As far as he was concerned, he'd only use that for emergencies.

"Right on time," Todd said as he opened the door. "Pasta's done and we're ready to eat." He smiled as Martin handed him desert. "Looking good!"

Martin followed Todd into the living room and found Brooks seated at the table. Having dinner with the two of them was quickly becoming a habit. He spent most of his evenings here, when he wasn't babysitting Ben or spending time with Molly. After being on his own for so long, having company was weird. It had taken him time to get used to being a part of something. For so long, he'd been on his own, hiding away at his trailer, but those days had gone.

Once they were all seated with food in front of them, Martin picked up his water and sipped. Todd didn't drink and he respected that by not bring booze into their house. He hadn't known what to bring as a gift at first. Normally he'd bring wine or hard liquor, but that wasn't an option. So he'd started to bring along desert.

"How are things with Molly and Ben?" Todd liked what he saw. Martin was sober, wore clean clothes, took care of his appearance and was alert. It was a far cry from the way he'd been three weeks ago, when he'd suffered those horrible nightmares. Most nights Martin spent at their place were quiet and uneventful, but sometimes a nightmare would rear its ugly head. That was when either Brooks or he stepped in and woke their guest. "Weren't you babysitting the other day?"

"Yeah, Ben's a great kid," Martin said and smiled warmly. "Molly's dating someone called Chip, or is it Chad? I can never remember." He'd checked the man's background and had found no convictions, which marginally soothed him. He would keep a sharp eye though.

Brooks read between the lines and smiled at his lover. It was obvious Martin was in love, but either the Texan didn't want to acknowledge that or he was oblivious. He couldn't rule out option number two. "And you're doing your best to chase off the guy?"

Martin grinned. He had found a few parking violations, so maybe he'd have the guy's car towed. No one needed to know though. "Who me? No, I'm a saint!"

Todd laughed warmly. "No one believes that, Martin!"

Well, they did know him pretty well and wouldn't be fooled.

"Are you staying for the night? It's late and the bed's comfortable." Brooks preferred having Martin at his home, instead of holing himself up at the trailer. Luckily, Martin's resistance to crashing at their place had lessened and he spent more time here.

"I might." The shower's water pressure was great and he did want to clean up before heading for Molly's in the morning. He might have, or not, fixed that leak and wanted to check on it before work. He also appreciated sleeping in a bed these days. Or, his body did, especially after running himself haggard all day. He was growing soft and it worried him.

"Are you still talking to Cahill?" Brooks finished his pasta and already had his eye on the apple pie. This was a great opportunity to catch up.

"Yeah, it's difficult though." Martin no longer considered lying or manipulating them. They'd seen him at his worst and hadn't turned their back on him. They'd proven their worth and deserved his honesty. "But you're right; it's helping. I never thought talking would make a difference." He had Brooks to thank for encouraging him to take that step.

"Keep it up," Brooks said encouragingly. "You're doing great."

"Thanks," Martin whispered, growing shy. He'd found a home here. Roger and Trish had wanted to provide him with one too, but it hadn't been what he'd needed. Brooks and Todd, however were.

"And the nightmares? Are they leaving you alone?"

Todd's question wasn't so easily answered. "I have good nights," he said and shrugged. Todd had helped him find a routine that helped. These days, he left a light on, kept his door ajar, and listened to some relaxing music before he turned in. The fact that he wasn't drinking or smoking weed helped too. "I do get the occasional one," he admitted, knowing they wanted the whole truth. They'd harass him if he kept things from them. "About that night," he said, knowing they'd get it. "And about finding my mother after she committed suicide." He grew quiet; that was a new one and they didn't know about that yet.

Todd moved his chair a little closer. "Is it okay if we talk about that?"

Martin chuckled, loving the way both Brooks and Todd always made sure he was okay with discussing something. That was probably why he opened up to them more easily. Cahill was more aggressive during their sessions. "Yeah, I'm not sure what you want to know though. She put a gun to her head and pulled the trigger. I found her like that," he said dismissively.

Todd knew better than to let that stand. "What you're describing are the events. What about the way you experienced them? You must have been scared."

Martin stared at his hands, which were curled around his glass. He shrugged again, trying to find the answer to Todd's question. Why had he brought this up in the first place? Now they were going to make him open another wound, but then again, the injury had never healed in the first place. "I probably was. All I remember is the shock of finding her like that. I wanted to check on her, hold her, I guess, but my old man held me back."

Concerned, Brooks tried to capture Martin's gaze, which proved futile. "What happened afterwards?"

"What do you mean?" Martin frowned at Brooks, not getting the question.

"Was she buried?"

Ah, now he got it. "Yeah, a few days later, once the body was released. We went into town for the funeral and dad got dead drunk and was looking to start a fight. I drove us home that day, he was in no condition to do that." A lot was hazy, he realized. He had to work hard to remember what happened after the funeral.

"So you went home and your father was drunk?" Brooks read the confusion in those amber eyes. Something was wrong.

"Yeah." Deep lines appeared on his brow as Martin tried to remember what had happened that night. That was when he realized he'd blocked those memories for a reason. Cringing, he pushed back his chair and got to his feet, quickly walking toward the window and staring outside. Damn them for making him remember!

Worried, Brooks and Todd looked at each other. "I've got this," Brooks whispered and made his way over to Martin. "Talking about it helps, you know that by now. Why don't tell us?"

"It's not pretty," Martin warned them, turning around to face them. Though, that wasn't anything new.

"We're listening," Brooks said, including Todd. "Let us help you carry the burden."

"It's nothing new. He beat me up again." But that night had been different.

"What aren't you telling us?" Martin had tensed up and his hands turned into fists, telling Brooks the Texan was even now struggling with those memories.

"He didn't use his belt that time. Mother needed a cane when she got weaker and he used it to beat me up." Those blows had been devastating, both physically and emotionally. The next morning, his father had dropped him off at the local hospital, telling staff he'd gotten tangled up in a fight and needed his injuries checked. The doctor on call had tried to talk to him, but he had locked out the man. After everything Nathan Riggs had done to him, he still wanted to protect his father. "I healed up eventually."

Brooks carefully rested his right hand on Martin's shoulder and turned the younger man toward him. "I'm sorry that happened."

"Me too," Martin muttered beneath his breath. "I couldn't expose him. I didn't want the police to check on him. He was all I had left."

"I get that," Brooks assured him. If he ever got his hands on Nathan Riggs the man would pay for what he'd done to Martin. For now though, he could only support the other man. In his heart he knew more horrid revelations would follow down the line, but he'd stay at Martin's side and support him. He'd be the father Martin never had growing up.

/

"Are you going to be okay tonight?" Brooks asked, checking on Martin before turning in for the night. "You've been remarkable quiet since dinner." Since Martin had told them about what had happened after the funeral. That worried him. He leaned against the doorway and watched Martin turn down the covers.

"I think so," Martin replied after seriously thinking it over. "Talking does help. It takes away the sting." He sat down on the side of the bed and looked at Brooks. "The secret's out and I feel better." He still had a hard time talking about himself, but he was trying. "I buried a lot of stuff and tried to forget about it, but it never went away. It just festered. Dragging it into the light – it helps."

Brooks was glad to hear it. "You know the drill. Wake me in case you need me or have another nightmare. You don't have to do this alone." During these last few weeks, either he or Todd had sat with Martin when a nightmare had been particularly bad. By now, Martin should know they were there for him.

"I will," Martin said and meant it. "Night, Brooks."

"Get some sleep, Martin. See you in the morning." Brooks left the door ajar and walked toward his bedroom, where Todd was already waiting for him.

Martin left on the light on the side table and curled up in bed, wrapping the duvet around him, creating a perfect nest. He smiled as he closed his eyes. With Brooks and Todd he'd found something he'd never known before – a home!

TBC


	27. Chapter 27

Debriefing Riggs

Season 2

Episode 9

Fools Rush In

"Spit it out, what's up?"Something was eating Martin and Molly needed to find out what it was. "No secrets or keeping stuff from me, Martin. Just tell me!" Being straight forward was the only way to make him open up, she'd learned that a long time ago and she wasn't scared to call him on his bullshit. They were watching a game, but Martin's thoughts were elsewhere and she was going to get the bottom of it.

Martin cleared his throat, knowing she wouldn't rest until he'd told her. She was exactly what he needed and he merely pretended protesting before meekly giving in. "There are some guys I want you to meet."

"Some guys? Can you be any more unspecific?" She shook her head admonishingly. "What guys?" And why did Martin want her to meet them?

"One of them is my captain. His name is Brooks," Martin started, trying to think of a way to explain to her why this was important to him. "The other guy is his life partner, Todd."

Molly blinked; why the hell did Martin want her to meet his captain? "What's special about those guys? You never mentioned them before!"

Which was true. Although she might be the only person to understand why they had come to mean so much to him. "Look," he started, turning toward her and resting his head against the couch. "You know what happened with my dad and the crappy childhood I've had." He scratched his ear and cleared his throat, trying to deal with his growing nervousness. "You know I'm seeing Cahill, who's my shrink, because of that. Truth is, my old man messed me up pretty bad."

Molly's expression mellowed and she stroked his hair, burying her fingers in the messy curls and playing with the strands. "I know that." She had been there to pick up the pieces after Jake had gotten arrested. It had taken social services a couple of days to find him a foster home and she had stayed with him during that time. She knew about the nightmares, the flashbacks, and she hated the man who caused them; Nathan Riggs. Finding that Martin still suffered from nightmares hadn't surprised her and she supported him now like she had back then.

"Brooks and Todd…" Martin searched for the right words, "they help me a lot. When I had no place to go, they took me in. When the nightmares made me think I was going insane, they stepped up. Brooks especially. He didn't have to."

"I get it, they're important to you, Brooks in particular." She already liked the guys. Everyone who took care of Martin was a friend in her book. "So what's this about?"

"I want you to meet them because…" Hell why? "The three of you are important to me. Maybe you'll consider them friends in time. Brooks, he is…" It was time to come clean. "He's like the father I never had." He grew quiet and then added hesitantly, "I can never repay him for what he did for me. Please, this is important to me."

Molly didn't need him to elaborate to understand what he was trying to say; she got it. She knew Martin Riggs better than the man knew himself. "So what's the plan?"

"They invited us to dinner. I told them I'd talk it over with you first." He hadn't accepted straight away as this was her call. "Most nights when you're working, I'm at their place. We have dinner, talk, and sometimes I hog the guestroom. It feels like home. They are home." His explanation sucked, he knew that, but discussing this was hard on him. "They keep me sane."

"Hey, relax, don't make this into a big deal," she said, trying to calm him down. "We'll have dinner and everything will be fine. If they look after you, they're gold in my book. You have nothing to worry about. I'll even behave!" Martin visibly relaxed and she shook his head. "You really thought I'd say no?" Did he knew her that little?

"I'd hoped you'd say yes, but…"

But he'd been apprehensive and preparing himself for the worst possible outcome. Hell, she knew how Martin Riggs ticked. "So, what do we bring?"

"That's a good question. Todd doesn't drink."

"He doesn't?" She didn't mind though, she merely teased him a little.

"He's a trauma surgeon and saw too many victims due to drunk driving, so…"

"Ah, so what do you normally bring?"

"Desert," Martin said, happy that everything had gone smoothly.

"I'll whip up a mean desert for your guys," she assured him and quickly added, "alcohol free, of course!"

"Thanks," he whispered, before leaning in closer to kiss her. He still had a hard time believing he could be this lucky and expected the other shoe to drop at any moment.

/

Brooks looked forward to the evening as he was finally meeting Molly. Martin talked about her and Ben all the time and he'd never seen the Texan happier. During those dark times, he had almost lost the hope that this day would come. Love was amazing; a true healer. He only hoped it would last!

"Are we all set?" Todd walked into the living room and eyed the dining table critically.

"We're good," Brooks assured his partner. "I'm curious. I wonder what she's like."

"From what you told me those two are perfect for each other. Don't worry that much!" He pressed a kiss onto his lover's lips and playfully swatted his butt.

"Don't do that when they're here," Brooks chided his lover in a playful tone.

"I'll behave," Todd promised. The doorbell rang, urging them into action. "Aren't you getting that?" He headed for the kitchen to check on dinner.

Brooks cleared his throat, drew in a steadying breath, and headed for the front door.

/

"I can't believe you're nervous!" Molly chuckled. "You know these guys! If anyone should be nervous, it's me!" But she didn't do nervous.

Martin checked if the pie Molly had baked was still in one piece, straightened his shirt, and suddenly realized what was going on. What the hell? He laughed, which caused Molly to arch an eyebrow questioningly. He'd felt like this when Miranda had introduced him to Ronnie. So this time it was him bringing his girlfriend to meet the possible in laws. "I'll explain later," he promised as the door opened.

"Martin, you're right on time," Brooks started, "and you must be Molly. He constantly talks about you, so it's great to finally meet you! Step inside!"

Amused, Molly smiled at Brooks. So this was the guy who had become Martin's rock? If she got the chance she would thank Brooks for being there when Martin had needed the support the most. "We brought pie," she said, and gestured for Martin to hand over desert. "Cherry pie, I hope you like it. Baked it myself with a little help from Martin."

"I didn't know you baked," Brooks quipped and winked at Martin. He already liked Molly. Tonight was going to be fun!

/

After finishing desert, Todd went into the kitchen to wash up and Martin promptly offered to help, allowing Molly some time to get to know Brooks. Martin wanted them to get along.

"He's not very subtle, is he?" Molly grinned at Brooks, who handed her some coffee.

"Martin Riggs is many things, but subtle isn't one of them," Brooks agreed. He guided her over to the couch where they sat down. "Thanks for coming over. Todd and I wanted to meet you and hopefully this won't be a one-time thing."

Molly sipped from her coffee and studied the LAPD captain who meant so much to Martin. She liked them both; Brooks and Todd, and she could easily tell how much at home Martin felt at their place. He'd tried telling her how deeply he cared about Brooks and Todd and Molly had the feeling the affection was mutual. "Why don't you come to my place for dinner this weekend? Just let me know when and how late."

Brooks was glad to hear it. "We will. I'm happy you and Martin decided to give this a chance. You're exactly what he needs."

Molly spoke from the bottom of her heart when she said, "You two mean a lot to Martin. I didn't realize just how much until I saw you interact. He's a part of this, isn't he?"

"We kinda adopted him," Brooks revealed, glad that she wanted to learn more. "He needed a father figure and for some reason, he picked me. Todd's a bonus dad."

She smiled and nodded once. "Yeah, his father treated him like crap. I can see why he picked you."

"Right, you know Nathan Riggs, don't you?" He'd read those files some time ago and had focused on Martin, not paying much attention to the other people mentioned in the report.

"I was there when Jake shot that bastard," she confirmed. "Nathan Riggs had it coming. The way he treated Martin was…" Words failed her. "He was a good kid. He didn't deserve that kind of abuse. But we were kids and stuck at home. He had no place to go."

"Thankfully he had you," Brooks said, feeling grateful.

"Thanks." Molly decided she really liked the guy. She could very well see why Martin had such a weak spot for Brooks. "So, you're going to be my father in law?"

Brooks laughed, amused. "Something like that. Are you okay with that?"

"More than okay," she said and meant it.

/

"I reckon you're not staying the night." Todd grinned cheekily when he escorted them to the doorway. As far as he was concerned the evening had been a success. They'd gotten along, told embarrassing stories, and had bonded a little.

"Nah, I'm staying with Molly tonight." Martin gave her a shy, hopeful look.

"You'd better!" she playfully threatened him. "I had a great time! Thanks, and we'll see you Saturday eve!" She planned on having a good old barbeque!

"We're looking forward to it." Brooks opened the door and stepped aside. "Drive safely, Martin!"

"I will, I got a precious cargo," he said, smiling at Molly.

Brooks and Todd watched the two of them get into the truck and waved them goodbye. "I like her," Todd said and wrapped an arm around his lover. "She's the best thing that could have happened to him."

Brooks nodded; he agreed. He only hoped they'd last.

TBC


	28. Chapter 28

Debriefing Riggs

Season 2

Episode 10

Wreck The Halls

"What the hell happened here?" Brooks didn't know where to start. Roger's house was wrecked, inside and out, thanks to some hit men the Aryan Fraternity sent after him. Luckily his friend and former partner was fine, but Roger had destroyed part of his home in order to survive.

"Ah, it's not that bad!" Roger was confident the house would be in prime condition again shortly, maybe even with some improvements. "The Hail Mary worked!" Quick thinking had saved his and his neighbor's life. However, Riggs hadn't told him yet how he'd managed to get away! The Aryan Fraternity had carried out their hits simultaneously and having seen the state the truck was in, Roger still wondered how his partner had survived the attack. "You should see Riggs' truck though! That's bad," he quipped, hoping to draw Avery's attention away from him.

"Riggs' truck?" Brooks cursed beneath his breath. He'd left the precinct the moment the call had come in, alerting him that both Roger and Martin had been in danger. "Is it worse than the house?" escaped him.

"The truck will survive," Martin stated, trying to remain calm now that Brooks was getting worried.

"At least you're in one piece," Brooks whispered, relieved. "Or did you get shot? You didn't, did you? Any injures I should be aware of?" Martin looked fine, but that didn't mean a thing. A quick look at the trashed state of the truck made him wince. "How the hell did you survive?" Bullets had shredded the coach work, the window panes were gone and only sharp shards of glass remained.

Martin wished they were alone, instead of in the middle of a crime scene Forensics was working on. Brooks looked like he was about to have a heart attack and he tried some damage control. "The guys were lousy shots, they missed me."

"Not funny," Brooks chided him, turning toward Martin. "Do you have any idea how lucky you are to be alive?"

Bemused, Roger watched their exchange. Seeing Avery worry to such an extent about their Texan would do Martin good, he knew that. Riggs needed to be reminded that people cared on a regular basis.

"Brooks, I'm fine, stop this." Martin ran a hand through his hair and gave his boss a pleading look. "We're at work," he reminded the older man and hoped Brooks kept up appearances. He didn't want anyone to start gossiping about their captain.

"I don't care. Riggs, walk with me!" Brooks gestured for Martin to follow him.

"You're in trouble. You're in trouble," Roger sang, feeling chipper. Too bad Avery was going to lecture his partner in private. He would have loved to watch!

"Not funny." Martin shook his head disapprovingly at his partner and quickly trailed after Brooks. It was best not to annoy the older man. Who knew what worrying would make Brooks do!

"Martin, I wasn't kidding." Brooks walked around the truck and repeatedly shook his head. How could anyone survive this? "How did you get out alive? These guys were pros."

Martin had been dreading that question, because he didn't want to tell Brooks the truth. He had too, though. If he was right, this would turn into a nightmare soon. "Someone called off the hit," he whispered, for Brooks' ears only as he came to stand next to the older man.

Brooks didn't like that particular tone of voice. It felt like Martin was preparing him for something bad. "Why would anyone do that and who has so much say within the Aryan Fraternity to call them off? You know Davenport ordered this hit and the guy is top of the line."

Martin scratched his ear, trying to buy himself some time, but when Brooks expectantly looked at him, he knew it was time to come clean. "I'm not sure, but I believe it was my old man."

Brooks blinked in surprise. "Nathan Riggs?"

Martin shrugged; best to get this over with and drag another dark family secret into the light of day. "He's always been part of that particular organization. Intimidation and power play goes a long way with these guys and he had a lot of say even back then. While in prison he probably deepened that connection. It pays to have the Aryan Brotherhood backing you up when you're doing time. I'm just saying it's something he might do."

Brooks knew it made sense and Martin was probably right. "This isn't good." Nathan Riggs was trying to get back into Martin's life and that wasn't happening. He'd put a stop to that.

"It's bad," Martin agreed. "If I'm right, I owe him my life." That caused a whole new shitload of confusion on top of his already messed up feelings.

"You don't owe him anything, Martin!" Nothing Nathan Riggs did could possibly make up for the way he'd abused Martin when he'd been a child and teenager. "It's the least he could do!"

Martin smiled shyly. "Hey, I'm not even sure it was him."

Brooks nodded, but he was going to look into Nathan Riggs. He was going to find out all he could about that man and make sure he'd never mess with Martin again.

/

"Merry Christmas, dad," Martin said, forcing the words out, while trying to deal with the memories running havoc in his mind. He didn't want his dad to know just how intimidated he felt. The call had come out of the blue. Part of him expected it to be Jake, calling him on dating Molly, but no, it turned out to be Nathan Riggs instead. Martin resolutely terminated the call, closed his eyes, and tried to slow down his thundering heart. How he hated feeling like a frightened twelve year old boy again!

Hearing his father's voice had projected him back in time. He'd been back at home, paramedics working on his father and the police arresting Jake. Later, when he'd visited his father at the hospital, Nathan had tried coercing him into killing him. Molly had saved the day, telling him they had to leave.

The monster that lived in his nightmares was real now. His father was back in his life and it scared the hell out of him. He couldn't tell Molly about the call; he didn't want to worry her, but he had to talk to someone! Damn, it was Christmas Eve! He couldn't simply show up and demand to talk to Brooks and Todd! But he needed them, needed their support.

Since Molly was still upstairs, he wrote down some words and placed the note on the coffee table, telling her something had come up at work. He couldn't face her right now.

/

"Let me get this straight; Martin thinks his father called off the hit and now he thinks he owes the man?" Todd had a hard time understanding what had happened.

"Afraid so," Brooks admitted as he swirled his red wine in his glass. He didn't normally drink, not when spending time with his partner, but they'd indulged themselves with an elaborate Christmas dinner and Todd had gotten him the wine as a present. "If it's really Nathan then things will get complicated," Brooks mused. "I don't know how Martin will react if his father starts messing with him."

"We'll help," Todd said decisively. "Nathan Riggs is also a big shot with the Aryan Brotherhood? The childhood Martin must have had!" The guys associated with the Aryan Fraternity had a certain reputation. And Martin had grown up around them? It certainly explained a lot.

"Apparently. I'm looking into it when I go back to work tomorrow." Being an LAPD captain would open doors which would normally stay closed. He looked up from his drink upon hearing a familiar, roaring engine. "That's Martin's truck. It's a miracle it still works!"

Todd looked out of the window and nodded. "It's Martin all right." Seeing the truck's awful state, Todd understood Brooks' worries. Those hit men had meant business; they'd been out for the kill.

Brooks opened the door and frowned, concerned at realizing the state Martin was in. "What happened?" He wrapped an arm around the trembling younger man and pulled him into the house. The last time he'd seen Martin in this condition was when he'd told them about the nightmare in which he blew his own brain out. Martin merely shook his head and remained still, which urged Brooks into action.

Todd watched them enter the living room and realized Martin was in the middle of a panic attack. "Make him sit on the couch." He collected a throw, wrapped it around Martin after he'd collapsed on the couch, and then went into the kitchen to get some water. Todd curled Martin's fingers around the glass and told him to sip.

Trusting Todd, Martin complied and drank some water. Slowly, the panic abided and embarrassment set in. He'd done it again; this time ruining their Christmas! "Sorry for crashing in on you, guys."

"You're always welcome here," Brooks chided the Texan softly. "What happened? You're shaking all over!" He caught the glass before Martin could drop it and placed it aside.

Loud and bitter laughter escaped Martin, telling him he was losing it. It was amazing he'd managed to keep himself together during the drive over here! "My old man called earlier. I was right. He told them to back down."

Brooks exchanged a worried look with his partner. So their suspicions had been right after all, fuck! This was the worst thing that could happen to Martin! His father was sneaking back into his life. "What did he say?"

"That every boy needed their dad and that he'd saved my life." Martin bowed his head in defeat. He'd been happy for the first time in so many years and now it was falling apart again. He knew his happiness wouldn't last. It never did. "I panicked. Hearing his voice made it so very real."

Brooks nodded and rubbed Martin's back in soothing circles. "He's still behind bars, isn't he?" But Nathan Riggs didn't have to be a free man to terrorize his son. He was able to do that from inside of prison too.

"As far as I know, yeah." But Nathan Riggs would be free one day, and he dreaded that moment. "I ran. I didn't even tell Molly what happened. I had to talk to you guys."

"Thanks for coming here instead of getting drunk," Todd said, knowing turning to booze could have easily happened.

"You guys beat Jack Daniels any day," Martin quipped, starting to feel more like himself now that he had their support. "Can I stay tonight?"

"Always," Brooks reassured him. "Don't you want to call Molly first and tell her where you are?"

"I'll text her." If he talked to her, she'd realize something was off and give him the third degree. That had to wait until tomorrow. Tonight, he needed to regroup and find a way to deal with the fact that Nathan Riggs was back in his life.

TBC


	29. Chapter 29

Debriefing Riggs

Season 2

Episode 11

Funny Money

Brooks made his move when Martin stared at the dog collar that dropped from the envelope. He recognized the expression in those eyes and knew he had to act quickly. Martin froze up, caught in the moment or caught in a flashback, Brooks wondered. It didn't matter. "Martin, what's going on?" He spoke softly, not wanting to draw any attention to them.

Brooks' voice pulled Martin from his thoughts and he tightly curled his fingers around the dog collar. He should have known his old man was behind the dog's death. Nathan Riggs was perfectly capable of having a puppy's neck snapped just to convey a message. His father wanted to see him and he'd failed to comply. This was punishment.

"Martin? Talk to me, don't shut me out. You know it doesn't work that way. Step into my office. We have more privacy there." He turned Martin around and gave him a little push in the right direction.

Martin caught on and started moving, holding on to the dog collar in order to remind him who he was up against. The terror that had a hold on him felt very familiar. He'd been scared to death of his father as a kid and now that fear was back.

"Sit down," Brooks said, while leaning against the desk. "What's going on, Martin?" Those eyes hid nothing. Martin's face turned deadly pale and his hands trembled. Those things alarmed him. Since Martin remained quiet, he focused on the dog collar. Roger had needed to vent earlier, telling him something about Riggs getting Ben a puppy. A puppy which had vanished and left Ben in tears. Starting to connect the dots, he didn't like his conclusion. "Does that belong to Ben's dog?"

Martin raised his head and nodded slowly. "Someone snapped the puppy's neck." And now he knew who had given the order. "It's starting all over again. I can't do this." He couldn't let Molly and Ben pay the price. This had to stop now. "I have to go," he said, trying to get up, but Brooks pushed him back into the chair.

"You're staying and you'll tell me what's going on." He hoped this wasn't about Nathan Riggs.

Looking Brooks in the eye, Martin explained, "My old man wants to see me. This is how he lets me know I'm taking too long to get there. It's a message – a warning." He smoothed his hair back from his face and shook his head. "I should have seen this coming, but I didn't and now Ben's paying the price. My dad doesn't care about collateral damage. Molly and Ben mean nothing to him. They're expendable. He doesn't care if they die."

Brooks carefully thought over his next move. "You know your father best. What do you think will happen next?" They needed to prepare for the worst.

"Maybe Ben having an accident or Molly… As I said, he doesn't care who dies." This was about payback. Nathan Riggs was going to make him pay for whatever he'd done wrong in the past. The monster was truly back. "I need to go to Texas and see him. If I don't, someone might end up hurt, or even worse, dead. I have to end things with Molly. I can't protect them, not from my dad."

"I'm not going to tell you what to do," Brooks said, fully believing this was Martin's call. "If you want to temporarily end things with Molly, I understand that and I'll support you. Until we sort out this mess, you want her and Ben safe, I get that."

Temporarily? Martin shook his head. Brooks didn't really get it. Nathan wasn't going to stop until he was dead. One of them had to die in order for this to end.

"But you're not heading for Texas alone. I won't have it. You're too emotional and your father will use that to his advantage."

"What are you going to do? Drive down there with me? You can't leave for that long!"

"Oh, I'm sure the precinct will survive without me for a day or two." He would keep in touch by phone. "I'm coming with you."

"Brooks," Martin started, but then grew silent. How could he possibly convince Brooks not to get involved? "If my old man finds out you're important to me he might move on to Todd instead. I can't take that risk!"

"Too bad, because it's not up to you." Brooks smiled contently. "So I'm important to you? Good to know!"

Martin sighed, giving up on getting through to Brooks. "Suit yourself, but don't blame me if things go wrong."

"I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself, detective," Brooks quipped. "We'll figure it out."

/

Sitting in the truck and looking at the high security prison that housed Nathan Riggs, Brooks wished he could accompany Martin inside. But the younger man had put his foot down, telling him he had to do this on his own. Martin refused to expose him to his father's poison, as he'd called it and Brooks respected that. "I'll be here when you get back. Don't do anything rash. Go in there, hear what he has to say and don't react. That's what he wants, for you to get emotional. You need to stay focused and calm. Can you do that?"

"I'm not sure," Martin admitted. His nerves were getting the better of him and he hated the way his hands trembled when he reached for the car door. "I suddenly feel like a kid again, about to face…"

"Your worst nightmare," Brooks finished for him. "You're stronger than you think, Martin. I have faith in you."

If only he had faith in himself.

/

Martin had a hard time breathing once he stepped outside the prison. Meeting his father had been worse than he'd expected. The malice in the man's eyes had intensified over the years and he felt physically ill after having been in his presence. The threats had been concealed, but there. Nathan Riggs meant business.

"Martin!" Brooks hurried over to the younger man and quickly assessed his condition. "You look like you're about to hyperventilate. Take deep, calming breaths!"

"I don't hyperventilate," Martin scoffed, but he felt faint. Brooks wrapping an arm around him and leading him towards the truck was just what he needed. He had to put distance between himself and his father. He'd meant what he had said earlier; he would kill Nathan Riggs the moment the man was paroled. He'd happily go to prison himself for ending this nightmare.

Brooks wasn't so sure. "I take it things were even worse than you expected?"

"Just looking at him brought it all back. Can you imagine that I felt like that twelve year old boy again about to getting his ass kicked and beaten to a pulp? All he had to do was look at me, and on the inside, I went dead."

"That's it. You're not seeing him again. We'll find another way to deal with him. I don't want you to go near him ever again!"

Martin smiled warmly at Brooks and drew in a series of steadying breaths, just as the older man had told him to. He wouldn't know what to do without Brooks' support. "You'll have to be careful. He has eyes on the outside and probably already knows I'm not here alone. It's only a matter of time before he figures out who you are."

"Let him, I'll gladly kill him if he makes a move. I'm armed." He didn't share Martin's painful history with the man. Nathan Riggs didn't scare him; he wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet between his eyes. He guided Martin toward the truck, opened the door, and told him to get onto the passenger's seat. "I'm driving."

Martin meekly handed over the keys. He was fine with that. He was shaking way too badly to be driving. "This isn't over yet," he warned Brooks when the other man started the engine. "This was just his first move."

"Don't worry, I'm ready for him."

"Don't underestimate him. If you do, you'll make it even easier for him."

"I won't," Brooks promised. No, he liked being prepared when going up against an enemy. He'd do his research, see if he could find any weak spots and then go after Nathan Riggs before the man came for him!

TBC


	30. Chapter 30

Season 2

Debriefing Riggs

Episode 12

Diggin' Up Dirt

/I don't think even Riggs can get up and go after the bad guys after being hanged, so I tried to be a bit more realistic. My point of view is a bit different./

"Where's Riggs?" Brooks scanned the bullpen but came up empty.

"Off to Helendale prison," Bailey told her captain. "Gene Nakahara was scheduled to meet with Ronnie Delgado the day before the murder." Amazed, she watched his expression change. Normally Avery was calm, even in the most dire situations, but not this time; his tension showed clearly. Well, maybe it had to do with Riggs running havoc again? He was a good detective, but caused her boss a lot of problems. She was well aware of that.

"Let me know the moments he gets back. I want to talk to him, so send him straight to my office!" Brooks closed the door behind him and cursed softly. Damn Martin for taking off without him. He simply couldn't leave him unsupervised!

/

"Riggs, the captain wants to see you," Bailey said the moment their wayward detective stepped into the bullpen.

Martin melodramatically sighed and tilted his head. "Let me guess, you told him where I've been?"

"He asked, why shouldn't I?" Avery was her captain after all. "You'd better hurry. He's in a bad mood, I've seldom seen him like that."

Probably getting riled up over nothing, Martin mused as he headed for the office. Worrying again. It was a habit he was unable to break Brooks from. He knocked out of sheer courtesy – and maybe hoping to stall getting lectured once again.

"Riggs, at last!" Brooks impatiently gestured for Martin to step inside and sit down. "What happened at the prison? I've been unable to get a clear update!" He knew about Ronnie Delgado being stabbed, but that was about it. He quickly scanned Martin for any obvious distress, but found the Texan calm and composed instead, which merely worried him further. This wasn't how he expected Martin to act after visiting his father in law.

"Cartel made its move," Martin started as he collapsed in the chair. "They tried to off him, but he's hanging in there. The hit proves we're on the right track. Someone wants to shut him up. He knows something."

"Did he give you any information?" Martin's calm demeanor didn't fool Brooks; he knew the man better by now.

"Not really. He just mentioned lending the Ojai house to councilman O'Brien when the man needed to prep cases. Nothing else. If that's it, I'll be leaving."

"Sit," Brooks commanded. "You're holding back. Don't try to fool me, Martin. Spill it. When you act this calmly, it usually means you're in turmoil. What else did Ronnie tell you?" He knew he'd hit bull's eye when Martin flinched guiltily.

"Nothing related to the case," he said evasively.

"Martin, you don't need to keep secrets from me. Come on, we've been through a lot together. You can tell me. You know that!" What had happened to make Martin revert back to old tactics? He didn't know the younger man like this – not any more.

Martin sighed, stared at the ceiling and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "We talked about Miranda," he admitted after a moment's hesitation. Brooks and he had discussed many things, but Miranda had seldom come up. "Turns out she knew about my old man. I lied to her, told her he was dead. Ronnie says she hired Serrano to dig up the dirt on me."

Brooks needed a moment to process the new information. "Why did you lie to her?"

"I wanted to protect her," he started, but then reconsidered. "No, I was scared; scared she would reconsider marrying me. I mean, let's be honest, why marry someone whose dad is a big shot with the Aryan Fraternity? I wouldn't have married me either!"

"What else?" Martin was still holding back. Brooks could tell because he refused to make eye contact.

Martin sighed and bowed his head. Nervously, he fiddled with his sunglasses. "A lot has to do with shame… I let my old man beat me up. Except for that one time I never fought back."

"Why didn't you?" Martin's expression showed his surprise at being asked that question, but Brooks continued on. "Tell me."

"He's a big guy." Martin shrugged. In his memory Nathan Riggs was a monster of a man, with large hands and packing an incredible punch. "I was a scrawny kid, I stood no chance against him. And the one time I did fight back, he went in for the kill."

"You were afraid, Martin, and that's perfectly understandable. You were a child. Even if you had wanted to, you couldn't have fought him off. There's no shame in looking out for yourself the only way you can."

"Maybe, maybe not." Martin wasn't convinced. "Are we done here? I don't feel comfortable discussing this at the precinct."

Brooks got that. "Come to dinner later. Todd's at work, so we have the place to ourselves."

"Fine." Agreeing would get Brooks off his back for the moment. "Don't worry so much!"

"I can't help it. I care."

Brooks' simple reply made him lower his head. He tended to forget that when he was stressed. "Thanks for caring."

"You're welcome. Now go back to work and don't forget to show up at eight."

"I'll be there." Martin took his leave and closed the door behind him. In a strange way, he felt relieved now that he'd told Brooks what was going on. It had taken him a long time to realize and accept that he needed Brooks' support. He had no idea what he would do without him.

/

"Riggs did what?" Brooks tried to wrap his mind around the things Roger was telling him.

"He shot the tank! Actually, it was the lesser of two evils! He wanted to shoot Serrano instead. I had a hard time holding him back. He was out of control."

"Because of what Serrano told him about his wife." Brooks leaned back in his chair and looked at Martin bent over his desk and pretending to do his paperwork. It worried him that Martin was slowly slipping away from him. That Martin had resorted to outdated tactics earlier that day showed him how much this case affected the Texan.

Roger nodded. "What Serrano did was uncalled for. He blamed Riggs for getting her killed. We know that's a lie. The cartel targeted her because of her father, not because of Riggs. Serrano played mind games and successfully screwed with Riggs."

Miranda would always be Martin's weakness, Brooks knew that. "Do me a favor, Roger?"

"Anything," Roger said, having a good idea what request might follow.

"Keep an eye on Riggs. I don't want him to slip away from us. He was doing better and now Serrano undid that progress. Riggs needs us – all of us."

"I'll monitor him," Roger replied, agreeing with his captain. Riggs was doing better. He'd cut down on his drinking, acted a bit more balanced, and hadn't pushed him off any buildings lately. He'd hate to see that improvement go to waste.

/

Brooks knew things were indeed bad when Martin didn't show up for dinner. Martin was usually quite punctual and now he was running thirty minutes late. He could head to the trailer and check on him, but if Martin had wanted his support, he'd have shown up at dinner. Maybe he could ask Roger to step up instead.

Brooks called Roger and told him that he worried about Riggs. Thankfully Roger didn't ask any questions and merely told him that he was already on his way over to the trailer, sharing Brooks' concern.

Since he'd done everything within his power, Brooks collapsed on the couch and hoped Roger could pull Martin back from the edge.

/

Martin calmly staring at the ceiling during the chaotic debriefing which had Leo, Roger and Trish all talk simultaneously, worried and reassured Brooks at the same time. He worried because Martin was much too calm and he felt reassured because the younger man was alive and well.

The moment Martin recognized the Ojai-house, Brooks knew things had taken a turn for the worst. Martin promptly got to his feet and took off without even looking at him. He let the Texan go, but with a heavy heart.

/

"I'm heading over to the Ojai-house," Roger told Avery, upon realizing where Monica's body was probably buried. "I can't reach Riggs, so he doesn't know what's going on. If he's there all alone and Serrano goes back to playing his games, Riggs will lose."

"I'm coming with you," Brooks announced as he retrieved his gun from the desk drawer and followed Roger toward the elevators.

Roger blinked, surprised that his captain wanted to ride along, but then nodded. He'd noticed Avery's worry regarding Riggs before and approved of it. He had the feeling Riggs needed all the backup he could get on this one!

/

The anger that rose from deep within Brooks was welcome; it would help him deal with Serrano and his cretins. They had roped Martin up high, strangling the Texan, who was still kicking and trying to free himself. "Step on it," he urged Roger, his heart thundering like mad and already aiming his gun at the man holding the rope. They had to stop this before those bastards killed their friend!

Roger, equally shocked to find his partner fighting for his life, accelerated. "What the hell?" Seeing Riggs slowly going limp scared him more than he wanted to admit. "Hang on in there, buddy, we're on our way!" Riggs didn't deserve to die this way, even considering all the messes the Texan had gotten him into. Death by hanging wasn't happening!

During his time with the police, Brooks had witnessed many shocking events, but nothing came close to this. The idea of losing Martin scared the hell out of him. Reaching Serrano's men seemed to take forever and Brooks started shooting the moment they were within range.

Roger crashed the car into the criminals and the man holding onto the rope suddenly released it, causing Riggs to fall to the earth, landing hard.

Seeing it made Brooks curse, his frustration needing a way out. "Damn it!" He threw open the car door, rolled onto the grass, and made his way over the fallen man, all the while taking down as many perps as he could. He had to find out if Martin had survived, if he was still breathing! At the same time, Roger joined in, firing his own gun. Brooks crouched next to Martin, resting a hand on the man's chest to check his breathing, which was shallow. But at least he was breathing, which was the only thing that mattered. Relieved, Brooks nodded once, they had this!

Roger took out Serrano himself and the fixer tumbled into the grave, from which they'd removed Monica's bones earlier. Now that the situation was under control, he moved quickly, joining Avery and Riggs. "Is he still alive?" He wouldn't forgive himself if his partner was dead, knowing he should have stayed close. When Riggs was emotional, he was prone to act rash and irresponsibly. It was his job to keep the guy balanced and he'd accepted that. What he couldn't accept was failure.

"Breathing, yes, call it in! We needed paramedics!" Brooks slid his gun back into his holster and concentrated on Martin. For once he was glad he'd kept up with his first aid skills, though he'd never dealt with a strangulation case before. Martin was ashen, his eyes were open, but had a blank stare in them. Worried, Brooks shivered at seeing the indentations the rope had left behind. The skin looked red and angry, partly bleeding from where the rope had scoured the skin. "Don't move about," he advised when Martin tried to shift.

Roger, on the phone with dispatch, wished he could do more for his partner. The paramedics were on their way, but it would take them fifteen minutes at the least to get there. He felt helpless and hated it. He sat on his heels next to Riggs and tried to make eye contact, but quickly realized the other man wasn't exactly aware. Dazed, Riggs stared at the sky, oblivious of what was happening around him.

Brooks moved and placed his hands on either side of Martin's head, trying to stop him from moving about. He had no idea what injuries the other man had carried away and wasn't taking any chances.

Martin wheezed softly, trying to draw in breath, but that merely resulted in pain. What was happening?

Roger checked Riggs' pulse, hoping it would tell him more about his partner's heart rate. Riggs had been up in the air for at least a minute, possibly even longer, because he had no idea when everything had started. Lack of oxygen could cause brain damage and that worried him.

Listening closely to Martin's breathing, Brooks caught the high-pitched sound that escaped the younger man. That didn't sound good and he wished those paramedics hurried up! The affected area around Martin's neck had swollen slightly. "Roger, how much longer before they get here?"

"Five minutes," Roger replied, wishing he could do more. He wanted to remove that damn noose from around his partner's neck, but was scared to make things worse. It was best not to temper with Riggs' neck. Instead, he reached for his partner's hand, which was cold and shaky. "Hey, it's going to be okay. Stay with us, okay?" He wasn't sure Riggs heard him, but didn't care, as he wanted to reassure the other man that he wasn't alone.

Martin had trouble focusing, but managed to identify Brooks, who hovered over him – upside down and the angle was all wrong. What was up with that? He wanted to say something, but his tongue was in the way. Damn, his neck hurt and so did his shoulders! Why couldn't he move?

"Martin, you need to keep still. You're not well," Brooks said soothingly. "But Roger and I have got this. We'll stay and make sure you're taken care of. We're waiting for the EMT's to arrive. No, don't move," he chided softly upon feeling Martin starting to nod. "We need to keep your head still. Don't move!"

Brooks probably knew best, so Martin followed the older man's lead; he had enough trouble breathing as it was. That shouldn't be so hard, why was that?

Watching Martin closely, Brooks noticed the hemorrhages showing in the whites of the eye. "You're doing fine. Just be still and let us do the work." He'd never felt more relieved to hear the sirens in the distance. The paramedics were about to arrive.

Martin tried to smile at Brooks, wanting to reassure him, but failed to pull it off. Instead, he closed his eyes, feeling tired now that breathing drained him.

"Martin, stay with us!"

Brooks' alarmed tone barely registered with Martin, who finally succumbed to unconsciousness.

/

"I came as quickly as I could!" Todd hurried into the waiting area where he found Brooks and Murtaugh pacing the small space. Still dressed in his white doctor's coat, he headed for his partner and gave him a quick hug. "What's going on?"

"They're running several tests on him," Brooks said, trying to keep it all together. Now that Todd was here, he felt like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. They were in this together. "I have no idea what those are. They told us, but…" He hadn't been paying attention. The image of Martin hanging suspended in air still haunted him.

Roger stayed quiet, not wanting to disturb them. He was worried too and had called Trish, who had wanted to come to the hospital, but he'd asked her not to come. There was little they could do at the moment and he promised to update her once the medical staff had finished their tests.

"How long was he up there?" Brooks had texted him what had happened, and although he normally didn't treat strangulation victims, he'd read up on the complications as much as time had allowed him to.

"One minute for sure, probably longer," Roger supplied, when Brooks failed to answer the question. "He stopped moving when we got there."

Todd drew in a deep breath, sharing their concern for Martin's well being. "I'll stay with you guys." He'd asked a colleague to cover for him as he wanted to support his lover.

"Thanks," Brooks managed as he heavily sat down on a chair. "I can't believe they did that to him!"

"They're scumbags," Roger agreed, sitting down close to Brooks. "He's tough; he'll pull through."

"He will," Brooks agreed, "but we don't know about the damages yet. You said it yourself; he was up there for at least one minute. There's the lack of oxygen to consider and –"

"Stop it," Todd said, firmly, as he lowered himself on his heels in front of Brooks. He gathered his lover's hands in his and soothing stroked the knuckles. "Martin's breathing on his own, isn't he?"

"Yes, but he sounded bad. He wheezed and this odd sound left his lungs each time he exhaled."

"Sounds worrying, I know," Todd whispered, trying to assess the damage. "But as long as he's breathing, he might be fine. They're probably putting him through a CT Angiogram of the carotid and vertebral arteries as we speak. That, and the results of the blood work should tell us what to expect. You have to be patient a bit longer." He knew he was asking for a lot.

"I hate sitting here and being unable to do anything," Brooks admitted as he looked at his lover. "Can't you find out what they're doing?"

Todd knew he shouldn't, as he was emotionally involved too, but nodded nonetheless. "Give me a moment. I'll see what I can do." Looking at Murtaugh, he asked, "Are you staying with him?"

"Yeah, I'll keep an eye on him." He rested a hand on his friend's shoulder and squeezed gently. "You need to have faith, Brooks."

Brooks watched his partner flash his badge and disappear. "At least we have someone on the inside now," he said, trying to sound optimistic, but he didn't really feel like it. Having faith might be too much to ask for at that point.

/

The fact that Todd smiled when he stepped back into the waiting area calmed Brooks' nerves. Things were going to be all right then!

"Good news," Todd said, sitting down next to his lover and gathering Brooks' hands within his. "Martin will make a full recovery. They'll release him in a couple of hours provided someone watches him. I already told them that we'll take him in. So, you'll have Martin safely tucked into bed shortly."

Brooks seemed to deflate and nodded repeatedly. "Good, yes, that's good news." Martin was tough, he had to remember that. Nothing killed that guy!

Roger wondered what he was missing. It was only normal that their captain worried about Riggs, but Todd seemed to know the Texan pretty well too. Were the three of them closer than he'd thought? Originally he'd wanted to offer to take Riggs on, but it seemed that wasn't necessary. His partner already had a family to take care of him!

"We need to watch him closely," Todd updated them. "Strangulation can sometimes cause problems later, but I don't think that will happen in this case. But we need to make sure he rests."

"We'll do that." Brooks needed a moment to process the good news, as he'd been prepared for the worst. He still couldn't rid himself of seeing Martin up in the air, going motionless. He'd never forget that as long as he lived.

/

Martin was wobbly on his feet, but struggled on, pointedly refusing to be rolled out in a wheelchair. That wasn't happening! He'd endured their prodding and tests, had behaved himself, but now he was done with it.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Hearing Todd's voice so unexpectedly made Martin look up and grin. What was the other man doing here? Then, the white coat registered with him. Ah of course, this was where Todd worked! "Getting out," he rasped, his voice still hoarse and grating.

"Not like that!"

What was Brooks doing here? Todd's presence was self exploratory, but Brooks' wasn't! Brooks moved surprisingly fast, wrapping an arm around him and supporting him. He was about to pull away, when he lost his footing and hung on instead.

"I'm getting you a wheelchair!" Todd gave him a look that said not to contradict him and went in search of one.

"Hey, buddy, I thought you were finally over your death wish!" Roger, seeing how unsteady his partner was, moved to his other side to support him. "Let them put you in a fucking wheelchair!"

Martin grinned, so very grateful to have them at his side. He'd been convinced he was going to die and had regretted not saying goodbye to his friends. He also regretted shutting out Brooks, who had merely tried to help. He'd properly apologize later when his voice cooperated again.

He cringed at seeing Todd return with a wheelchair, but didn't put up a fight when they lowered him into it. It felt good to be off his feet! He was about to ask what would happen next, when Brooks already supplied him with the answer.

"We're taking you home, Martin. They only let you go because Todd and I promised to monitor you. Once you're home, you're going to bed and you'll rest."

Martin carefully raised his head, ignoring the soreness and rigidity in his neck muscles. He knew that tone; it meant Brooks was about to freak out on him. Hopefully not at the hospital though!

Now that Martin remained quiet and wasn't putting up a fight, Brooks relaxed slightly. Martin was letting them move him and cooperating. Good, at least he knew his condition was serious then. "And that's not up for discussion," he added for good measure.

Ignoring the fact that Roger was part of their little group, Martin whispered, "Yes, dad," and watched Brooks smile at him. A bit sad perhaps, but at the same time, filled with pride. He closed his eyes as he felt tired. The CT scan had drained him and they'd drawn way too much blood in his opinion, but he'd let them, just as he let Brooks take charge now.

/

An hour later, Martin was in bed, feeling comfortable and with the duvet tucked tightly around him to keep him warm. Moving his head was still exhausting as his neck ached and felt immobile. He managed to turn it slightly so he could make eye contact with the two men hovering close.

Todd had taken charge, declaring himself his supervisor and announced he'd sit with him for the next few hours. After that, Brooks would relieve him. He thought they overreacted; they always did. He was comfortable and safe. He was just going to sleep it off and he'd be back to his grumpy self in the morning. Todd and Brooks however, continued to hover.

"Get some sleep," Todd advised as he made himself comfortable in the wingback chair they'd moved into the guestroom. It was eleven PM and he needed caffeine to get him through the night, so he sipped from the black brew. He couldn't afford to fall asleep and miss Martin going into respiratory distress or failing to notice other symptoms. He needed his wits about him tonight.

Normally Martin would start a discussion about them being overly concerned, but this time, he lacked the energy. Which, he knew, worried them in turn.

"Just get some sleep, Martin." Brooks smoothed back the unruly hair and smiled reassuringly. "You're safe with us."

He knew that, so he gave in and he drifted off to sleep, appreciating being in a warm bed and them looking after him.

TBC


	31. Chapter 31

Debriefing Riggs

Season 2

Episode 13

Better Living Through Chemistry

/Again, I didn't like the way they handled Martin's reaction to those drugs and his recovery. I made it a bit more realistic, I hope./

Brooks couldn't believe it had happened again. How did Martin always end up in mortal peril? He'd disliked Roger's plan from the start. Having Martin committed as a patient to Copeland was a disaster waiting to happen, though he had to admit he'd expected the Texan to cause the damage, not Samuels.

As it turned out, their gamble had completely backfired. When Roger's call came in, updating him on the situation at Copeland, he'd headed for the institution at once. Only two weeks ago, Martin had almost died because Serrano had tried hanging him and now the paramedics had been called again. This time in order to deal with a severely drugged Martin, who'd needed adrenaline to pull him through.

"You're not serious!" Todd exclaimed at the other end of the phone. He'd been getting groceries when Brooks called, telling him Martin had been drugged. "Copeland? I'm only two blocks away! Expect me there in ten!"

"I'll tell them to let you pass." Brooks rounded a corner, put away his phone, and told a uniformed cop to show Todd the way the moment his partner arrived. Apprehensively, Brooks ran through the corridors of the building and eventually stepped into the padded cell. The state Martin was in alarmed him. The younger man was on the floor, staring blindly at the ceiling. A discarded straightjacket lay next to him, making Brooks realize Samuels had forced him to wear it. Brooks wanted nothing more than to get close to him and reassure him, but the paramedics needed their space. "How's he doing?" he asked Cahill, who looked on with barely concealed concern.

"I administered adrenaline and they've stabilized him. He'll pull through, but the effect of that drug needs to run its course. We can't give him anything, as his system won't take it."

"But he'll be fine eventually?" Brooks had to be sure.

"Yes," one of the paramedics said, "but not yet." Looking at Cahill, he asked, "Does he live on his own? He can't be alone while he's got this in his system. Maybe you should have him admitted for observation."

Cahill was about to reply when Brooks beat her to it. In spite of everything she smiled, once more reminded that Martin wasn't in this on his own. He had support.

"Martin's staying with me. My partner is a physician and will arrive shortly. We'll monitor him closely." He shook his head, despairing as he realized that Martin had managed to put himself into their care again. Now that the paramedic packed his stuff and got to his feet, a spot opened up and Brooks took it, kneeling next to Martin and instantly gathering a shaky hand in his. "You have to stop doing this to me, Martin." One day, his heart wouldn't be able to take it anymore!

"Didn't do it on purpose," Martin said gingerly. Forming thoughts and actually voicing them was difficult. He hated putting Brooks into this situation again. "Didn't think this would happen." They'd surprised him with that stun gun, which had doubtlessly been set to maximum. Once he'd found himself confined to that straightjacket he'd known this was getting complicated. He could still get out by dislocating his shoulder, but he never got that chance as they were quick to shoot him up. Once the drugs' effect had set in, he'd been down within seconds.

"I know you don't do it on purpose." Brooks ignored the people surrounding them. It didn't matter to him if they knew he cared. Maureen knew already and so did Roger.

"Brooks, what the…?" Todd stormed inside and instantly came to a halt upon seeing Martin's pale complexion. And that was after he'd been administered adrenaline? He cornered the paramedic and grilled him for data. He needed to know what he was dealing with.

Cahill felt comfortable releasing Riggs into their care, knowing they would give him something she couldn't. "If you need me, call, " she said, before giving them some privacy.

"We will," Brooks readily replied, gladly accepting her offer. He rubbed Martin's fingers, constantly maintaining physical contact. "You had to pull an Owsley on me, didn't you?"

The softness that slipped into Brooks' voice reached the deep recesses of Martin's foggy mind. He had a hard time pulling away from his memories though. In his mind, he was still back there, trying to reach his mother and his father held him back. He didn't want to be there. He wanted to get away from it all!

The tears that rolled down Martin's face made Brooks fear the worst. He inched closer and gently pulled Martin into his arms, holding him and strengthening their physical contact. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

"Mother's dead," Martin whispered, barely conscious of what he was doing. "She blew her brains out. It was messy." And his father hadn't allowed him to say his goodbyes. He'd kept him away from her until the funeral, and then the coffin had been closed because there was so little left of her face. "There was blood everywhere. Still found pieces of her skull on the carpet days after…"

Brooks was lost for words. What could he possibly say to that? "I'm sorry you found her like that. Martin, do you know who I am?" In the back, Todd was taking charge. Brooks didn't really pay attention; his partner knew what to do. He focused on Martin instead, who shivered against him.

"Yeah, Brooks." He wasn't that far gone. He merely had trouble telling past and present apart. Nathan's ugly face appeared in front of him and he blinked, trying to rid himself of it. Thankfully it vanished and he focused on Brooks instead. "Can we get out of here?" He didn't like the padded cell at all. It made him feel cooped up and he wanted out. He needed to feel free.

"You're cold," Brooks remarked, at feeling how chilled Martin's skin was.

Todd appeared and wrapped an emergency blanket around Martin. "That should help for now. You'll feel better once you're in bed." Like Brooks he had a hard time understanding why these things always happened to Martin. It was a good thing he was a physician, otherwise Martin would spend a lot more time at the hospital! "We need to get you to your feet."

"Hold on," Martin muttered, trying to push himself upright, but utterly failing. "Hum, body's not cooperating."

"Let us help." Combining their powers, Todd and Brooks managed to get Martin to his feet. "Any vertigo? Are you nauseous?" Todd wasn't sure what to expect.

"Fine for now," Martin whispered, trying to keep himself from falling apart. The room spun and he had trouble focusing. He let Todd and Brooks walk him into the corridor, where he suddenly heard Roger's voice.

"Are you sure? Trish and I want to help too!"

"Thanks, Roger, but Todd and I got this! If you want to help, wrap up everything here." Brooks appreciated his friend's offer, but he wasn't releasing Martin into anyone's care. He was looking after the Texan himself.

"Hang in there, buddy." Roger wished he could do more to help, but knew Brooks had this under control. Riggs looked marginally improved, but still far from recovered.

"Thanks, Rog." Martin kept his gaze locked on the floor, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. Damn, walking shouldn't be this hard. It was going to be a long trip home!

/

Now that Martin was safe in bed and asleep, Todd let go of most of the tension he'd experienced since Brooks' call had reached him. "How does he do that? How does he always end up in trouble?"

"I don't know," Brooks admitted, sitting down to take the first shift. Todd didn't want to leave Martin unsupervised, so they would take turns. "But this has to stop. How can anyone cope with that amount of trauma?" Cahill could only do so much!

"We'll get him through this," Todd said, resolutely, "And make sure he sees Cahill the moment he's thinking straight again. Ask her to come here, if necessary, but he needs to talk about what happened."

"About finding his mother like that." Seeing Todd's puzzled expression, Brooks explained, "His mother committed suicide. She put a gun to her head and Martin found her. It wasn't a pretty sight as you can well imagine. He was twelve at the time."

Todd was lost for words, considering everything Martin had lived through. He was well aware of the self-doubt and self- hatred that festered deep inside Martin's soul. That the younger man was still fighting impressed and amazed him. Martin's decision to join the military and to become a cop made sense. "I guess it's true what they say; what doesn't kill you makes you stronger."

Martin, who'd woken up due to their talking, pretended to still be asleep. His thoughts had cleared enough for him to make sense of what they were saying and apparently, they were discussing him. He didn't agree with Todd; what initially failed to kill you, would eventually do you in, was more like it.

"Yes, considering everything we know about him, he turned out fine," Brooks pondered aloud, pride stealing into his voice. "Despite his sometimes crude methods, he always get the job done. He's a good cop, one of the best I know and he's always out there, protecting the weak. He's great with kids too. When I couldn't reach Ethan back then, he did. He can't stand injustice; that gets to him. His mother would be proud of him, I do believe that. LA is safer with him in it."

Martin never expected to hear such praise and failed to control his emotions; that had to be due to those drugs. He felt way too emotional. Like before, tears slid down his face and he knew he'd given himself away. They knew he was awake and eavesdropping.

"Hey, you're awake." For Martin's sake, Brooks ignored the fact that the younger man was crying, and when those eyes swimming with moisture opened, he smiled reassuringly. "It's good to have you back. We worry."

"Sorry for pulling you into this mess," Martin murmured, searching Brooks' expression in order to find out if the older man really meant what he'd said.

"Well, your mess is our mess," Todd said as he moved into Martin's line of sight. Realizing something troubled Martin, he asked, "What is it?"

"Did you mean it?" Martin asked, looking at Brooks hopefully. Fuck, he hadn't wanted to ask him that! Why couldn't he stop himself from blurting out things like that?

Brooks rested his hand on Martin's brow and soothingly rubbed the skin there before sliding his fingers into the hair. "That you turned out great? Yes, I mean it. Sure, you make your share of mistakes, we all do. We're not perfect, but you have a good heart. You could have easily gone the other way, but you didn't. You care." He took an educated guess and added, "You care so much it hurts." He gently wiped at the tears gliding down Martin's face. "Hey, no more tears. Give me a smile instead."

Martin smiled in spite of the emotional turmoil he found himself in. "Thanks," he whispered, grateful that Brooks thought he was a good person. Most days he didn't even like himself and he constantly doubted himself.

"You should go back to sleep. It's the safest way to deal with the substances messing with your head," Todd advised, as he patted Martin's shoulder. "Want me to read you a bedtime story or sing a lullaby?"

Todd's grin worked wonders and Martin relaxed. "Nah, thanks dad number two."

"Hey, why do I get to be number two?" Todd played along, hoping bantering would relax his patient.

"Brooks is number one," Martin mumbled and then closed his eyes. "Think I'll go back to sleep now." He'd used up his last energy reserves and it was time to recharge. Knowing they were around and watching him helped him fall asleep more easily. He wasn't alone anymore.

TBC


	32. Chapter 32

Debriefing Riggs

Season 2

Episode 14

Double Shot of Baileys

/This is my take on Riggs' flashback regarding the car wash/hosing down incident, so I'll stray from the TV-series' plot. /

Brooks left the radio on. It played softly in the background and he hoped that the music relaxed Martin to such a degree that it kept away the nightmares. He'd relieved Todd twenty minutes ago.

So far, everything had been peaceful and Martin was successfully sleeping off the drugs Samuels had injected him with. Todd had tempered his expectations though, reminding him that Martin wasn't out of the woods yet. Their charge still had a couple of hours to go before the substance lost its effect and they had to be careful until then.

Since Martin was tightly wrapped up in his duvet, sleeping peacefully and still, Brooks decided he could leave him alone for a few minutes, as he needed to make a run to the bathroom. All that damn coffee he'd been drinking wanted out. "I'll be right back." He'd be gone for two minutes tops!

/

_Today I Started Loving You Again  
I'm right back where I've really always been;  
I got over you just long enough to let my heartache mend,  
then Today I Started Loving You Again._

Martin wasn't sure what woke him at first. He felt groggy, his body was sluggish and he failed to open his eyes. His eyelids were too heavy and he stopped trying. His cluttered brain refused to cooperate and it focused on the lyrics instead, telling him he knew them!

_What a fool I was to think I could get by  
With only these few million tears I've cried.  
I should have known the worst was yet to come.  
And that crying time for me had just begun._

Suddenly he was a twelve year old boy again who'd just attended his mother's funeral. Martin was back at that bar, trying to appease the cowboy complaining about his dad playing the song for the sixth time. His father was dead drunk and Martin knew what the man was capable of when he got like that. He had to get his father out of there before things escalated.

For some reason, maybe it was the song playing in the back, his dad gave in. Normally Nathan never backed down from a fight, but this time his father handed him the keys to the truck instead, telling him to get them home. Tightly clutching those car keys in his hand, he did what any good son would do; he got them home in one piece, although knowing that night was going to be a bad one. With just the two of them stuck at the house and with his father drunk, he would serve as the man's punching bag all night.

_'Cause Today I Started Loving You Again,  
I'm right back where I've really always been;  
I got over you just long enough to let my heartache mend,  
then Today I Started Loving You Again. _

Turned out, he'd been right. That night had been bad and in the morning, he had a hard time moving about. He was covered in bruises, which had started small, but quickly spread across his back, chest, and arms. He'd suffered in silence and tried to ignore the pain, knowing his father would snap the moment he showed his discomfort.

Two days later, a social worker phoned, announcing her upcoming visit which angered his dad. Nathan cursed, and enraged he got out his rifle, walking into the woods to kill whatever poor creature was unfortunate enough to cross his path. He'd expected his father to take it out on him that evening, but for the next four days nothing happened. It took him some time to realize why; she might check for bruises or injuries and Nathan knew that. That was the only reason why he currently kept his hands to himself.

Nathan Riggs however failed to keep away from the booze, in his stupor forgetting about the upcoming visit and got utterly drunk a few hours before she'd check on them. When she social worker called to let them know that she was on her way, his father raged and threatened her bodily harm once he'd put the phone down. But then Nathan calmed down long enough to realize everything wasn't lost yet. His father handed him the water hose, turned on the water tap, and ordered to hose him down. Martin hadn't understood at first, but his father's anger had made him catch on quickly.

"Gotta get right!"

Frightened, Martin had obeyed, flinching each time he'd paused to find out of his dad was all right. Checking on the man had only made Nathan angrier, and he'd cringed each time his father had shouted at him to keep going.

"Won't be long before she gets here! Gotta get right, son!"

The song still played in the background and his father's voice echoed over the lyrics, blending everything into a confusing mess. Martin wasn't aware of the fact that he moved back the duvet, placed his feet on the ground, and pushed himself upright. Entranced, maybe even sleepwalking, he headed for the bathroom and turned on the tap. Unable to stop himself he stepped beneath the water beams, never registering how icy cold they were. He rested his hands against the tiled wall, bowed his head, and let the water cleanse him. "Gotta get right… gotta get right."

/

Alarmed, Brooks stared at the empty bed. Where the hell was Martin? He'd only been gone for a minute! "Todd, " he called out. "We've got a situation!" A moment later, he noticed that the shower was running and marched toward the bathroom. What the heck was Martin doing? He was in no condition to leave the bed!

"What's happening?" Todd, who'd had trouble sleeping at any rate, quickly joined his partner and cringed at seeing the unoccupied bed. "Where is he?" Brooks pointed toward the bathroom and Todd also realized the shower was running.

The two of them quickly stepped into the bathroom and Brooks froze, taken aback. Martin taking a shower with his clothes still on made no sense at all. "What are you doing?" he muttered, looking at Martin, head bowed, kneeling on the floor, wet all over and shivering like mad.

"Gotta get right, son, gotta get right!"

Martin's voice was off; oddly distorted, and much heavier and darker than usual. Brooks sought out his partner's gaze, hoping for direction, as he felt overwhelmed. What was going on? What was he supposed to do?

"Turn off the water," Todd told Brooks, realizing his partner had frozen up. "Then get some large towels. We got this," he said, taking charge and reassuring his lover. Uncaring if he got wet, he hunched down next to Martin, realizing the young man was shaking himself to pieces. He had the feeling it wasn't merely due to the icy cold water running down on him.

Brooks quickly turned off the water and retrieved several towels like Todd had requested. Thankfully Todd knew what to do. He'd have been lost without him.

"Hey, Martin, you seem awfully cold. We need to get you out of these wet clothes and warm again." Todd tried to catch Martin's gaze, but the Texan kept muttering beneath his breath. He kept repeating the same words over and over.

"Gotta get right. Gotta get right." Firmly locked in the terror of his flashback, Martin never even registered their presence. Horrified, he wondered where he started and his father ended. What was happening to him?

"Do you have any idea what's going on?" Todd asked his partner. But one look told him Brooks was at a loss too. "What does 'gotta get right' mean?" he whispered, hoping Martin didn't hear it.

"I have no idea. I never heard him say that before." Brooks sat on his heels on Martin's other side and gently cradled his friend's face within his hands, desperately trying to establish some sort of contact. He'd managed to reach Martin before when he'd been stuck in a flashback, maybe he could do it again! "Hey, Martin, listen to me. Listen to my voice, will you? I have no idea what's happening, but I need you to focus. Can you focus on my voice? Come on, you know me, it's Brooks. Todd's here too and we worry about you." He pushed wet strands of hair away from Martin's face and hoped for a reaction.

Martin blinked. The voice was all wrong. It wasn't his father's. The words were wrong too. Nathan never told him such things. Confused, he managed to open his eyes and stare ahead, fully expecting to see Nathan, screaming at him to keep hosing him. But instead, he looked into Brooks' blue eyes. Trying to focus on the man in front of him was hard. His father's face tried to obscure Brooks' and almost caused him to panic again.

"Yes, that's better!" Brooks could tell Martin struggled to fight his way back, and it urged him on to try again. "Martin, you're wet and cold. Todd and I are you going to get you dry and warm again, all right?" He exchanged a look with his partner. Todd nodded, affirming they'd got this.

His father's ugly mug faded and he focused on those blue eyes, pleadingly looking at him. There was so much emotion in them that it nearly undid him. How could anyone look at him with that much affection? It could only be… "Brooks?" Martin had trouble keeping his eyes open. He felt frozen to the core and his shivers grew more pronounced. He'd been in similar situations before as a Navy SEAL; he recalled what it meant. His body was trying to warm itself up. He raised his head slightly, taking in his surroundings and realizing he was in a bathroom. Not in the countryside, not in their family house, and his father was nowhere in sight.

Instead, he noticed Todd trying to pull his wet shirt over his head. Sleepily, he wondered why the other man was stripping him, but as he looked down, he realized he was dripping wet – and fucking cold. They were trying to get him out of his wet clothes, which made sense. So he let them. Now that he'd caught on, he tried to cooperate, but his coordination was still off. Trying to figure out why that was, he suddenly recalled going to Copeland and Samuels shooting him up. Cahill had saved him, then Brooks had shown up and he'd ended up going home with them. That much was clear and it made sense. But why would he take a shower with his clothes still on?

"You're totally out of it." Brooks searched Martin's expression and realized the young man was trying hard to keep it together, and only barely succeeding. "You have absolutely no idea what you did, do you?" The confusion staring back at him from Martin's eyes alarmed him. Hopefully Samuels' drugs caused this and not some fracture deep inside Martin's mind. "Can it be that whatever Samuels shot him up with made his nightmares worse? He seems stuck in some flashback."

"It's possible. Remember, I told you to expect something like this. Those substances are still in his blood, and considering the fact that he wasn't emotionally stable to begin with, the drugs can induce hallucinations in his current state." Todd wrapped a towel around Martin's head and carefully dried the hair. "Can you get to your feet, Martin?" Even though Martin seemed aware of them, Todd worried. Like he told Brooks, he might have expected an episode like this, but not so severe. He had no idea what memory haunted Martin, but they needed to find out once the young man had recovered. For something to pop up now meant it might have been buried deeply.

"I can try," Martin muttered, struggling to get to his feet, but failing miserably. It was only due to their support that he managed to stand. He had a hard time wrapping his mind around what was happening. This didn't make any sense!

Once they'd removed the remaining wet clothes, Todd wrapped him up in several large towels and nodded, letting Brooks know they had to get moving. "He needs to be in a warm bed." Martin felt cold and the tremors worsened.

Brooks started moving and the three of them headed for the bedroom. Once they reached the bed, they lowered Martin onto the mattress, while Todd raised Martin's feet. "Lie down and stay down, yes?"

Martin closed his eyes and let them manhandle him until he was laying down in bed. Then the radio registered with him and he raised an arm, trying to take it down. It had to go.

"What's wrong?" What was Martin trying to do? Todd had no idea what upset the younger man.

"The radio… kill the music." Martin closed his eyes tightly, finally recalling the song that had started it all. "Switch it off!"

Todd acted at once. "Better?"

"Yeah." Martin curled up on his side and pulled the duvet partly across his face, trying to hide from the memory. "Don't let it play that song…"

"What song?" Had a song brought this on? In that case, Brooks needed to know which one. That way he could make sure it didn't happen again.

"Today I started loving you again," Martin whispered, trying to stop his emotions from spilling over into his voice. He utterly failed though. "It was on earlier."

"What's special about that song?" Brooks sat down on the side of the bed, and although with difficulty, managed to remove the wet towels. Martin made it hard though – not budging a bit. Todd came to stand behind him and rested his hands on his shoulders, squeezing consolingly. He was relieved that they were in this together and that his partner had his back.

Todd didn't even know the song! Why did it mean that much to Martin?

"It was my mother's favorite. My dad always played it on the jukebox. On the day of her funeral he played it nonstop." Martin was slowly growing aware of the situation he was in – and what he'd done, but he couldn't deal with it at that moment. So he kept his eyes tightly shut and willed himself to sleep, a little trick he'd picked up during his military training.

"I didn't expect that," Brooks whispered, unwilling to disturb Martin, who was drifting off into sleep. "I had no idea. I thought the music would relax him."

"You couldn't know, sweetheart," Todd comforted and pressed a kiss onto Brooks' hair. "But we know now, which means, no radio."

Brooks nodded. "There's something else that worries me. What he said – gotta get right, son. It's the son that worries me. His voice was different too."

Todd understood what Brooks was hinting at. He pulled his lover against him and soothingly stroked Brooks' hair. "That's probably something his father told him. We'll find out tomorrow. Ask Cahill to come here. He's not heading for work tomorrow and if you can, take the day off or run the precinct from home."

Brooks agreed. For Martin's sake they had to find out what that flashback was about.

/

The fact that he was being watched, woke up Martin. He was instantly on alert, realizing he didn't know where he was and what had happened. He forced himself to calm down and to find out. He was in a bed, that much was certain. Finding his clothes gone worried him. Why was he in bed naked? And even more importantly, who was watching him?

"Martin, are you awake?" Brooks, having learned from his past mistakes, monitored Martin closely, therefore noticing the moment the young man woke up.

Opening his eyes, Martin found Brooks seated in the wingback chair at some distance, but close enough to establish physical contact if he wanted. Why did it feel like Brooks was guarding him? He frowned, trying to remember why Brooks felt he needed watching.

"Todd feels those drugs should have run their course by now. How do you feel? Still foggy?"

"Foggy?" Why did Brooks think he wasn't in his right mind? Cautiously he held onto the duvet and pushed himself upright. Okay, he had a headache, maybe that was why Brooks worried? "No, just a headache," he told Brooks, knowing sharing would ease the older man's worries.

That Martin suffered from a headache made sense. After all, the drugs had messed him up pretty bad. "Do you remember Copeland and Samuels being onto you?" Brooks exchanged his chair for the side of the bed and closely examined those amber eyes, which seemed blurry, but not too alarmingly. The headache might be responsible for that.

"Copeland?" Martin frowned, trying to remember what that was and why someone called Samuels had been onto him. "I don't," he confessed eventually. "Is that a bad thing?"

Brooks decided against pushing Martin and let it go for now. Instead, he supplied the younger man with information. "Samuels worked there as a psychologist. You were undercover and he found out. He injected you with some aggressive drugs."

Martin shrugged. "Can't remember a damn thing." The last thing he recalled was finding out Cahill had been abducted. They'd found her though; locked in the trunk of a car.

"Maybe it'll come back to you," Brooks offered. He felt conflicted; questioning Martin about what had happened last night might have to wait as he didn't want to upset him. They'd table for it later. "Aside from the headache, anything else I need to know about?"

"I'm tired," Martin readily admitted. "Won't be chasing after bad guys today."

"You don't have to. You'll rest instead. Do you think you can eat breakfast?"

His stomach was behaving, it was his head putting up a fight! "I can try."

"Good, I'll get you some clothes. Do you need help getting dressed?"

"No!"

Brooks chuckled at seeing the blush spreading across Martin's face. "Suit yourself." He laughed warmly, as he gathered boxers, socks and sweats from the closet. No reason for Martin to dress up as he wasn't leaving the house anyway.

"Thanks," Martin whispered upon accepting the clothes. "It's nothing personal." He didn't want Brooks to think that.

"I know that. You're a modest guy," Brooks quipped. And it was true. Martin would never flaunt his body, even though he could, as he was in a surprisingly good shape. "Let me know if you need help. I'll be in the kitchen."

"I'll manage." Martin didn't know what had happened last night, but Brooks looked exhausted and it had to be because of him. If only he remembered!

/

"He doesn't recall what occurred last night?" Todd asked, in order to make sure he got it right. Brooks had assured him that Martin was doing better and getting dressed. Todd wasn't sure Martin should be unsupervised, but trusted his partner's judgment.

"I believe him." Brooks sipped from his OJ. His stomach recoiled from having coffee and he'd switched to something healthier. He'd already called in and let Bailey know she could reach him at home if something urgent came up. He'd drop by the precinct later, once he was sure Martin was over the hill.

"In that case, bringing up last night's events might be difficult." Todd wasn't sure how to proceed. Martin acting out last night had mostly been to the drugs. The young man hadn't been drinking or smoking weed. Samuels was the one to blame here. Martin was the victim.

"Yeah, that's why I didn't address it yet." Brooks dug into the scrambled egg, bacon and toast Todd had made, forgoing his normally so healthy breakfast, as he needed real sustenance.

Todd was tempted to address it after all, but didn't want to overwhelm Martin, who had no idea what had happened last night. "Let's see how it goes," he said eventually.

Brooks nodded in approval. "I'll make sure he talks to Cahill as quickly as possible." He'd update her on last night's events; she needed to know if she wanted to help Martin.

"Morning," Martin whispered, ill at ease, though he had no idea why. He felt ashamed; but didn't know what he'd done to cause that feeling. Wearing sweats was odd. He didn't even own some himself!

"Morning, Martin." Todd gestured for the young man to sit at the breakfast table. "No coffee for you this morning. Brooks isn't getting any either. You can have tea or OJ." He tended to agree with Brooks; Martin seemed much improved. His eyes were clear and no longer blurry. That the younger man felt insecure, was understandable, especially if Martin had no recollection of last night.

"I prefer OJ." Tea wasn't his thing. He sat down and stared at the food, trying to figure out if his stomach could handle breakfast. It was better to be safe than sorry, so Martin opted for some buttered toast. The bacon and eggs might be a bit too much.

The fact that Martin was eating and sipped from his OJ reassured Brooks, who still worried. "How's your headache?" When he'd mentioned it to Todd, his partner hadn't been surprised, once more expecting it.

"Tolerable, I've had worse." Martin hesitantly made eye contact. "Brooks, what did I do last night? Did I get drunk again? Did I black out? Did I do something stupid and got you in trouble?" He worried about that. He didn't want Brooks to constantly pick up the pieces because he lacked self control and couldn't stop drinking. "Did I do something bad?"

"No, you didn't," Brooks said at once, reacting instinctively. Wanting to soothe, he placed his hand over Martin's and gently squeezed the younger man's fingers. "You did nothing wrong, you hear me? The drugs Samuels gave you messed with your head and Todd and I looked after you. You had a rough night, but you didn't do anything wrong, all right? Don't blame yourself for something someone else did. It's all on Samuels!"

Martin frowned, but then nodded, believing Brooks. "That's good to know, I worried I did something stupid."

"No, you didn't," Todd confirmed when Martin looked at him, as if he needed his reassurance as well. "You did the sensible thing. You let Brooks and I look after you while the drugs ran their course." It wasn't Martin's fault that the drugs had made him hallucinate. Maybe the fact that Martin didn't remember was a blessing in disguise. Cahill would get to the heart of the matter eventually. There was no reason why they should pressure an already anxious Martin into discussing last night. "Let it go," he advised. "Get more rest and let me know if that headache of yours gets worse. I might be able to help."

"Thanks." The offer meant a lot to Martin, who gave Todd a grateful smile. That he didn't know what had happened last night still worried him, but it couldn't have been that bad; he trusted their judgment. So maybe he should follow their advice and take the day off and rest. It wasn't like Brooks would let him go to work at any rate. So, it was probably back to bed, or maybe he'd claim the couch and make himself comfortable there. And then he'd most likely fall asleep again, and that was fine too, since Brooks and Todd were watching over him.

TBC


	33. Chapter 33

Debriefing Riggs

Season 2

Episode 15

An Inconvenient Ruth

Martin figured karma was a bitch. He was well aware Ruth presented him with a reflection of himself, maybe not the way he was right now, but how he'd been in the past. And maybe, she even gave him a look into his future; a future he didn't particularly like.

Ever since that night in which he had completely blacked out due to Samuels' drugs, he'd given up drinking. Experiencing a fucking flashback sober already scared the hell out of him. He could very well do without being drunk or drugged when he had them. It had taken him a while, but last night, he'd finally remembered what had happened the night Samuels had shot him up.

The radio had played THAT song again, almost sending him straight to the bottle. And suddenly, everything had come back. He'd utterly embarrassed himself that night. What devil had possessed him to act out that scene from his childhood? He hated the fact that he'd gotten in the shower, letting the water run down his face and telling himself that he had to get right. He wasn't Nathan Riggs! He wasn't the abusive son of a bitch who had terrorized his son!

So, the next day, he'd hesitantly told Cahill. She wasn't surprised to hear it, which aroused his suspicion. A little while later, she admitted to knowing about that night, as Brooks had told her. For one terrible moment he'd felt betrayed, but then he'd realized why Brooks had done it. Cahill telling him that Brooks had been beyond worried made him regret his initial anger. He had to admit that Cahill knowing about it made discussing it easier.

So much had happened in just a few days, but he still hadn't found the courage to tell Brooks and Todd he had his memories back. He felt too ashamed, too embarrassed. All this time, ten days and counting, he'd managed to stay sober. He'd shot numerous bottles, uncapped others to merely sniff at them, some he'd emptied onto the beach or poured the content straight into the ocean.

Ruth was right; in his heart he knew that he had to let go of his pain, but how was he supposed to do that now his father had found a way back into his life? How could he possibly hope to defeat the devil?

"For how long have you been staring at that bottle?" Brooks had watched Martin for several minutes before making his way over to the other man's desk. The tiny bottle from the mini bar still presented a terrible temptation as far as he was concerned. But he knew he couldn't intervene. Martin had to stand by his decision to remain sober. If the Texan wanted to go back to drinking, he couldn't stop him. He merely hoped Martin would make the right decision when the moment came. "Martin?"

"Just a few minutes." Martin raised his head and looked at his captain. "Don't worry, I'm not going to drink." Not here, not today. He had no idea what tomorrow would bring though. Which reminded him, he should address the flashback he'd suffered while high on drugs. Todd and Brooks deserved him coming clean. They had stood by him that night. "Do you and Todd have plans for tonight? If not, I'd like to come over. We need to talk. Well, I need to tell you some stuff." He quickly lowered his gaze; shame creeping back in on him.

"We're at home, no plans, and we'd love to have you." Although Cahill couldn't discuss Martin with him, she'd hinted her patient had recalled that particular night and might want to talk to them. Brooks was thrilled that Martin took the initiative instead of running away. "I'll see you at eight. We're having pasta!"

Martin watched Brooks return to his office, still keenly aware of the little piece of his past his captain kept under lock and key. Brooks would guard it and make sure it didn't come back to haunt him. He trusted the older man and had faith in him.

/

Todd understood why Brooks was nervous. His partner suspected Martin was coming over to discuss the incident in the shower. Brooks sometimes thought too much, trying to imagine all possible outcomes and wanting to prepare for them. Todd, on the other hand, had learned to deal with the situation at hand and to improvise. At work, it was often the only way to deal with a patient's injuries. "Just let it happen," he advised, as he wrapped his arms around his lover from behind. He pulled Brooks close and kissed the back of his neck. "Let Martin set the pace."

"I will," Brooks assured his partner and smiled at him from over his shoulder. A moment later, the doorbell announced their visitor had arrived. "Let's do this."

Todd released him and watched Brooks head for the front door, while he got the pasta from the kitchen. It was best to discuss something like that after dinner. He didn't think well on an empty stomach.

Brooks opened the door and felt relieved at seeing Martin standing there, looking sober and alert. "Right on time," he said and wrapped an arm around the younger man, pulling him inside. Martin seemed nervous and he didn't blame him. "I hope you're hungry. Todd made tiramisu for desert!"

Although he was nervous about the upcoming conversation, he was also hungry and could eat. He followed Brooks into the dining room and took his seat.

"Hey, Martin, it's good to see you again." Todd placed the food onto the table and gestured for them to start eating.

Martin had never before truly appreciated the fact that Todd didn't drink. And Brooks, not indulging himself either most evenings, helped too. Temptation was everywhere, except here. Even if he got weak, they wouldn't let him have any booze.

They made small talk during dinner, mostly discussing Roger trying to recapture his youth. Also, Brooks showed Todd the footage of Roger getting stuck in the slide, which elicited more laughter. Therefore the mood was relaxed when they moved over to the couch in the living room.

Martin noticed Todd serving them his favorite herbal tea without asking them if they wanted any. Hell, he even welcomed the stupid tea, as he needed something soothing, even though he still hated its taste. "You probably know why I'm here," he started, ill at ease, but determined to do this.

Brooks nodded. "Why don't you tell us?" Todd and he had discussed this earlier and had decided to let him do most of the talking. Todd would back him up if necessary.

Martin wrapped his fingers around the tea cup, lightly tapping against the porcelain. There was no easy way to do this. "I remember what happened the night Samuels drugged me. I know that I made a fool of myself and that you had to drag me out of the shower and back into bed. I'm sorry for that. I lost it. I freaked out."

Brooks sighed in relief. So they were finally discussing this! Thank God! Having to keep this from Martin had been killing him. "You don't have to apologize, Martin. If anyone's to blame it's Samuels. But I'm relieved that you want to talk about it."

Martin nodded and then stared into his tea, which he swirled about in the cup. "It was that fucking song on the radio that pushed me over the edge. Hearing it brought it all back."

Brooks reached for Todd's hand, needing his lover's silent support. Todd easily gave it to him, rubbing his fingers. "You told us it was your mother's favorite."

Martin sighed and wiped at his eyes, which glistened with tears. Fuck, he wasn't going to cry like a baby!

Todd nodded encouragingly and Brooks took that as a sign to push on. "You also said that you found her after she committed suicide." Martin had told them that he'd found bone fragments long after wards, which made him shiver. He couldn't possibly imagine the way that had affected the young boy.

"Yeah, it was messy," Martin acknowledged, trying to keep it together. He refused to fall apart in front of them! He'd already done that earlier and wasn't putting them through it again. "We had to clean it all up," he let slip, "there was blood and soft tissue all over the bed and floor. Took us a long time to get rid of it."

Brooks' eyes widened, revealing his horror, and he looked at Todd, who seemed nauseous. "Your father made you clean the room?" Shocked beyond words, he had no idea what he was feeling. What kind of man, let alone parent, did that to their child? Finding his mother dead had traumatized Martin, what had having to clean up his mother's remains done to him?

"Yeah." He hadn't shared that with Cahill yet. Maybe he never would, but telling them was okay. Brooks and Todd understood where he was coming from.

Now that Brooks remained quiet, Todd took over, giving his partner time to recover. For Martin's sake, he acted composed, though he shared Brooks' horror. "I'm sorry. Your father shouldn't have done that to you."

Martin shrugged. "It happened." And he had to find a way to deal with it now that using booze to numb the pain was no longer an option. "After her funeral a social worker came to check on me. A teacher at school had alerted her that I wasn't attending classes and she got worried. The lady called in advance. My old man was drunk and needed to sober up, so he told me to hose him down. Which I did." Martin forced himself to continue, no matter how much it hurt. "He told me he had to get right - right in his mind so he could fool the social worker." Martin placed the tea cup aside and rested his hands in his lap, staring at them, still smaller than his father's. Nathan's hands had always done so much damage.

"We wondered about that," Brooks revealed, having recovered a bit, but he still felt in over his head. He had to get away from this for a moment; hearing it was so very painful. No child should have to live through something like that. "I'm glad you stayed with us that night and didn't head for your trailer. With those drugs in your system you might have harmed yourself. At least this way it happened here, someplace safe and we were able to help you through it." He had to focus on something good for the moment.

"Cahill said something similar." Brooks tried to make eye contact and he looked at the older man. Shame was still killing him, but the pain had lessened. He couldn't yet forgive himself for losing it in front of them, but the fact that they had stayed at his side told him how much they cared. "I haven't thanked you for what you did for me that night. Thanks, it means a lot to me." That was understating it though, it meant everything to him.

"Martin…" Brooks got to his feet and sat down next to the younger man, smiling at him in a saddened way, and fully realizing how much he cared about Martin. Months ago he'd told Martin he loved him, like Roger had done in Mexico. Those feelings had only deepened. He did consider Martin his son. "You don't need to thank us. What we did… We did it because we love you, you do know that, don't you? You're a part of this little family."

His emotions got the better of him and Martin failed to hold back the tears that now left his eyes. He wanted to quickly wipe them away, but Brooks caught his hands in his, stopping him.

"It's okay to cry, remember? Sometimes it's exactly what we need."

Martin didn't fully register it at first, but Brooks wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, guiding his head against his shoulder. His first impulse was to pull away and create some distance, but a part of him, maybe that twelve year old boy, wanted to be held. In the end, without knowing why, he completed the embrace.

Thrilled to receive that particular response, Brooks tilted his head slightly so he could make eye contact with Todd. Finding his partner wiping away some tears of his own didn't surprise him. He had no idea what had happened just now, but something told him Martin had taken a big step toward healing.

TBC


	34. Chapter 34

Debriefing Riggs

Season 2

Episode 16

Ruthless

Martin exchanged a bemused look with Brooks. Roger's little story about having been undercover as Randy Drexler was funny. It made him laugh and Brooks enjoyed elaborating. It was a light-hearted moment which he needed after past events.

"Riggs, have you ever been undercover?" Brooks hadn't considered the possibility before and was curious. Martin struck him as the type who would blend in perfectly.

"A few times," Martin replied, ignoring Roger's annoyed expression now the spotlight had moved on. Two weeks? Roger had been undercover for two weeks and had made everyone call him Randy? The target had been a chop shop? Very funny indeed.

Roger glared at his partner for trying to steal his thunder! No one knew undercover like he did! He was the best! Nothing Riggs had ever done could possibly rival his performance as Randy Drexler. "What did you do? Go undercover at a liquor store? Pose as a hair dresser?"

Martin chuckled. "That's funny!" He didn't mind being the laughing stock. A little bonding always worked miracles.

"Come on, share," Brooks said and playfully elbowed him in the stomach. "I'm curious too." Seeing Martin smile warmly and enjoying their little bantering felt like a soothing balm.

"It was nothing." Martin tried to dismiss the question. "I want to find out more about Randy Drexler. Did you make Trish call you Randy too?"

"Diversion won't work," Roger pointed out, his eyes narrowing because he realized Riggs was hiding something and he wanted to know what. "What kind of undercover operation did you do?" He wasn't giving up until he knew.

Martin decided to indulge them, this once. "My first undercover mission was overseas. We had some dirty officers selling guns to the enemy. I pretended being corrupt and convinced them that having me work for them would get them access to the storage facility. It took a couple of weeks to convince them to trust me, but we ratted them out. I worked with a fellow from the Military Police on that one, name was Reacher. Good guy."

"Must have been dangerous," Brooks remarked thoughtfully.

"Well, it meant walking a thin line, but having the MP back me up helped." That mission had been dangerous, but mostly fun.

Roger shook his head. "Doesn't even come close! Denzel wouldn't be interested in that story." Riggs' story wasn't what he'd expected though and he knew pretending being corrupt must have been dangerous.

"Any other missions we should know about?" Brooks decided to make good use of Martin's willingness to share. So far he hadn't heard anything alarming.

Martin thought it over and nodded. "There was that one time in El Paso. The Aryan Fraternity raised its ugly head. They were killing Mexicans trying to cross the border. They'd capture them and hunt them for fun. Let's say it weren't mercy killings. They like their torture."

This time, Roger arched an eyebrow. "You infiltrated the Aryan Fraternity?" Knowing what he did about Riggs' dad that couldn't have been easy.

"It was easy." Martin considered it one of his easiest assignments. "Thanks to my old man I knew how to act the part. They never suspected a thing."

"Did you use your real name?" Brooks grew worried.

"I was tempted," Martin admitted, "but couldn't take the risk of running into my dad. He was running loose at that time. I decided to go in with an alias."

Brooks wasn't sure he wanted to know more, but still asked, "Anything else?"

Nothing special in Martin's book, but he could throw them another bone, as they looked hungry. "I worked Vice and Homicide in El Paso. At one time we had a serial killer on our hands who preferred to torture and kill gay men. We had a name, a possible suspect, and I happened to be his type. So I presented him with a temptation he couldn't resist. We got him eventually. He proved to be a tricky guy to catch." That had been a difficult case.

"What aren't you telling us?" Brooks already planned to get his hands on those reports from El Paso; why hadn't he thought of that before? Who knew what else Martin was hiding, pretending it wasn't anything special?

Roger was also under the impression that Riggs was hiding something. "Spill it, did you screw up?" That would be classic Riggs!

"Nope," Martin replied and grinned. "Played my part a little too well, actually. He preferred to pick up his victims at a little bar and I went down there, pretending getting drunk and making sure I got his attention. But I was sloppy and never realized he slipped some Rohypnol into my drink. Let's say, I was happy I was wired and for my mates to move in before he got creative. That was a nasty one." But they'd gotten their guy in the end, and after the effect of the drug had worn off, he'd joined in the department's partying. "Fond memories," he chuckled happily.

Brooks shook his head in disbelief. "That's what you think of as fond memories?" It was a good thing he hadn't been Martin's captain back then. He wouldn't have okayed such an undercover operation!

Martin eyed Brooks closely; by now the older man was an open book to him. Brooks was way too protective of him. "As I said, those were fun times!" Looking at Roger, he winked. "My undercover work doesn't even begin to compare to your excellent execution, of course!"

"You're mocking me!" Roger played along, pretended to be hurt, but on the inside, he felt a deep respect for his partner. Riggs' undercover operations had been way more dangerous than his. During each one of those missions Riggs could have been murdered. Appearing bribable in a war, infiltrating the Aryan Fraternity and pretending to be a helpless victim and getting drugged in the process – that was serious deep undercover work. He wasn't going to voice it though. "Stop it!" He pointed a finger at Riggs in warning.

"Who me? I didn't do anything wrong! I'm innocent!" He grinned and winked at Brooks, hoping the older man wasn't brooding again. Brooks really had to stop worrying!

"Hardly," Brooks whispered, playing along, but all the while carefully filing away this new information!

/

"Martin, why did you spend the night in the morgue? On a drawer!" Brooks felt lost. When Scorsese had told him about Martin sleeping down there, he'd suspected being pranked, but when he'd opened the cabinet and had found Martin on that metal drawer, he'd realized something was wrong. He'd asked Scorsese to give them a moment and the other man had left. "I want answers."

Martin leapt to his feet and slipped into his boots. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "You're wrong. It IS formaldehyde!" His clothes stank!

So Martin wasn't going to answer him? Fine, he'd table it and move on to his next question. "Did you drink?" He hoped that Martin hadn't thrown away twenty days of sobriety.

"Nope." Martin smiled reassuringly. "I need a shower, that's all. Air's not that good in there. It's not designed for the living!"

"What's this about?" Since he had Martin alone and cornered he wasn't going to waste time. "What caused this? And no bullshit. Tell me."

Martin tucked his hair behind an ear and didn't even consider evading Brooks or lying to the man. These days, he cut the bullshit and just came clean. "Do you think there are people who are beyond saving?" Ruthie's statement wouldn't leave him alone. What if she was right and he was beyond redemption?

Brooks quickly caught on. "Shouldn't that be: do you think I'm beyond saving, Martin? Who told you that crap?"

"Ruthie. What if she's right?" He eyed Brooks closely. What did the other man really think of him?

"You're not beyond saving! I can't believe I'm hearing this! You're on your way to recovery! You're doing well in many aspects of your life. You're sober, talking to Cahill and learning to deal with your crappy past. Anyone who tells you differently doesn't know you." He played his trump. "Who are you going to believe? Someone you met a few days ago? Or me? Martin, after everything we've been through, don't tell me you trust my judgment so little! Don't you dare do that!"

Martin genuinely regretting hurting Brooks' feelings. The other man didn't deserve that – not after putting up with his crap! "I trust you, sorry. I shouldn't have asked such a thing."

"No, it's fine you did, that way I know what's going on in your head, but don't believe her is what I'm saying. You need to have faith in this – in us."

"I do have faith," Martin admitted, lowering his gaze. "But when she said I was beyond saving, it…"

"It hurt," Brooks finished for him. "I get that and she was out of line. Don't let her get to you." Brooks hoped he was getting through to the younger man. "And no more sleeping down here, understood? You have a home with Todd and I. We want you there, especially when you're feeling down."

"Understand," Martin confirmed and nodded his head. "I still tend to forget that."

"Then don't!" Brooks briefly patted Martin's shoulder. "Well, ready to face the day, Dracula?"

Martin grinned. He'd been called many things, but never that!

/

Brooks stormed inside alongside Blum. He scanned the area and felt relieved at finding Roger and Martin unharmed. They'd been listening in the entire time, and when Martin had told his partner to shoot him, Brooks had given the sign. They'd arrived just in time, making sure Murtaugh and Riggs lived another day.

Martin smiled at Brooks, knowing he needed to reassure the older man. "We're both fine," he called out.

Which was a miracle, considering Roger had caved under the pressure. Thankfully the gun hadn't been loaded. One day, his lunatic would be the death of him!

/

Later that evening, Brooks, Todd and Martin settled down on the couch after stuffing themselves with dinner. Brooks opted for decaf to please his partner. Todd nursed his favorite Redbush tea and Martin had opted for regular coffee, needing a little pick me up after the day he'd had.

Having a place to come home meant the world to Martin, or maybe he should say, having a little family to come home to. Referring to Brooks and Todd in that way still felt awkward, but at the same time, incredibly right too.

"Are you staying for the night?" Todd asked before sipping from his tea.

"Nah, not this time." Martin grinned. "Rog called. Trish kicked him out, so we'll spend the night at the trailer. I'll play babysitter." And Roger might even make a tolerable Mahjong player after teaching him.

Brooks chuckled. "He definitely needs to work things out with Trish, but some time away from her will do him good. He'll start to realize what he had when he starts missing her."

"I hope so too! Roger moving in permanently is not happening!" If that ever happened, Rog could gladly have the trailer and he would move in here. Brooks and Todd would love that, and honestly, he liked the idea too.

TBC


	35. Chapter 35

Debriefing Riggs

Season 2

Episode 17

The Odd Couple

"Why can't you take in Rog?" Martin glared at Brooks. They were at the precinct and he had to behave, but that didn't mean he couldn't show his displeasure. "He's your former partner! It's your turn to put him up!" Roger drove him insane, but he didn't dare abandon the trailer, afraid of the state he might find it in if Roger started nesting in earnest!

Brooks, sitting behind his desk and trying to focus on his paperwork, looked up and grinned. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"No. What are you talking about?" He nervously fumbled with his sunglasses.

"You're already occupying the guestroom. We don't have the place to put up Roger too." Amused, he watched as Martin finally realized the problem. "It's not like we can use the room to accommodate Roger. Your stuff is in there and it's your room. We're not getting rid off or moving your things. That's not happening."

"Oh." He really hadn't considered that. "Me bad," he muttered, frowning. "I didn't think of it like that."

"I know you didn't." Brooks placed his pen aside, leaned back in his chair, and studied the younger man. "How are things with Molly?" He hoped the two of them would work things out as they were well-suited for each other. Molly was a great woman who didn't put up with Martin's bullshit, which was just what the Texan needed.

"Complicated," Martin whispered. "She wants me to sort things out with my old man." Although he knew she was right, he was scared as hell to face his father again. But it was true; he did let his father ruin his life each time something good came his way. He was still surprised Nathan hadn't gone for Brooks and Todd after that last visit. His father wasn't stupid and had long found out who had accompanied him to Texas. The fear of having endangered Brooks and Todd haunted him every day. He'd never forgive himself if his old man went for them instead. "I don't want to make things worse," he added, worriedly.

"She's right. I don't like it either, but she has a point. As long as your father lives, he'll cast his shadow over you. Do you know what you'll do next? Hopefully you know that Todd and I have your back?"

Martin nodded; he didn't doubt their sincerity. They'd go to great lengths for him, which still amazed him. What had he ever done to deserve their loyalty, and dare he say it, love?

TBC


	36. Chapter 36

Debriefing Riggs

Season 2

Episode 18

Frankie Comes To Hollywood

This time Brooks didn't wait in the truck. He stayed in the corridor, waiting for Martin to return from talking to Nathan Riggs.

Brooks hadn't put it up for discussion, telling Martin to pick him up at home. They'd headed for Texas together. Brooks agreed with Molly; Martin had to find a way to deal with Nathan, but also realized such a meeting would be painful and open wounds which had never healed to begin with.

So he was prepared for the worst when Martin stepped into the corridor. The younger man was clearly upset and his eyes wet with tears which he was fighting back. Brooks expected Martin to be emotional and was prepared to deal with it. "Let's get out of here," he said, grabbing Martin by the shoulder and leading him out of the building.

Martin didn't speak and Brooks was okay with that. They had to get to the truck before the younger man would even consider letting down his guard. The more distance between Martin and Nathan, the better.

Feeling entranced, Martin followed Brooks' lead and felt immensely relieved once he slipped onto the passenger's seat. He didn't even put up a fight knowing he was in no condition to drive. His hands shook like mad, his eyes stung and he struggled to draw in air. His father's presence had literally sucked the life out of him. When he'd been in that little cubicle, he'd fought hard not to let his father see how badly this affected him, but he'd failed. Nathan had taken one look at him and he'd known; he'd seen it in his father's eyes. "I fucked up."

Brooks turned toward Martin and gently cradled his friend's face in his hands, trying to sooth the upset man and forcing him to make eye contact at the same time. "What happened in there?" He didn't believe Martin fucked up. It was more like Nathan Riggs had screwed with Martin's head!

"He said he was sorry. He wants to be in touch. I can't do that, so I told him to leave me and the ones I love alone." The words came automatically to his surprise; he hadn't been sure he could voice them. "He saw me cry." It had just been one tear, but he'd given himself away. Nathan knew he still had a hold on him.

"Hearing that must have thrown you." Brooks had expected several moves on Nathan's part and this was one of them.

"He doesn't mean it. He's playing games, getting in my head to mess with me. He can't change. He won't change!" Just five minutes with his father had undone a lot of healing Cahill, Brooks and Todd had worked on. Just like that, he was an emotional wreck again. "Fuck, I want to get drunk and forget it ever happened."

"We're not doing that," Brooks stated firmly. It was a good thing he'd come along. If Martin had been on his own, the young man would head for a bar to get pissed, but not with him around. He considered his options; if they left now they'd be home tomorrow, but that meant driving through the night and he wasn't comfortable with driving for so long. Martin was in no condition to take over the wheel. Renting a room for the night was their best option.

Brooks reached for the thermos, uncapped it, and poured a generous amount of coffee. Although Martin usually took it black, he added sugar and milk and then handed it to the trembling man. "Drink that."

Martin scoffed. "There's no booze in that!"

"Exactly. You're not getting any alcohol tonight. Be very glad I opted to bring along coffee instead of Todd's tea. Now drink that and let me take care of the rest." Martin glared, but then sipped obediently, which made Brooks smile. He started the engine and turned the truck around. Although the thought crossed his mind, he decided against turning on the radio, just in case that one song popped up. Martin might lose it if it did.

/

"Why are we stopping?" They had just entered Gallup and were halfway home. For some reason though Brooks steered the truck toward a motel.

"I'm too tired to drive through the night." Brooks parked the truck and killed the engine. Upon seeing Martin object, he shook his head firmly. "And you're not driving either." Although the younger man tried to hide it, he still reeled from shock. Martin was too pale, too quiet, and way too preoccupied. "We're grabbing a bite to eat and we'll head home in the morning." He'd already updated Todd and the precinct.

"Fine, cap." Martin lacked the energy to protest anyway. He stayed in the truck while Brooks got them a room, noticing that the car keys were gone. Brooks had taken them with him, the sneaky bastard!

Five minutes later, Brooks was back and dragged him along. The room turned out to be clean and decent. It only had a King, but Martin figured they could share, as he felt comfortable with that.

"You want the first shower?" Brooks asked, scanning the room and finding it acceptable.

"Nah, I'm good. I'm gonna crash instead." Martin was already on his way over to the bed when Brooks threw his duffel bag at him.

"There's food in there. Eat something first. I'll be back in ten." Brooks made sure the keys to the truck were still in his pocket when he closed the bathroom door. He wasn't taking risks.

Food held no appeal, but Martin knew Brooks would give him hell if he didn't eat, so he unwrapped a sandwich and forced it down with some bottled water. Lying down on the bed, he stared at the ceiling. The meeting with his old man kept replaying in his mind, driving him nuts. He failed to stop those thoughts and seemed stuck.

"What's happening in that head of yours?" Brooks was back, clad in a T-shirt and boxers and stretched on the other side of the bed, keeping his distance. If Martin wanted or needed comfort, the young man would let him know.

Martin sighed and turned his head. He chuckled upon finding Brooks' normally immaculate hair in such a mess. He sobered quickly though and returned to staring holes into the ceiling. "I'm glad you came along." Had he been alone, he would have done something stupid, as he couldn't vouch for his sanity at the moment.

Brooks turned onto his side, pulled at the duvet, but only managed to cover himself partly, as Martin was laying down on it and not moving. "I'm glad you let me tag along."

Brooks' words made him smile. "You're tenacious." Brooks could have given up on him so many times, but never did.

"Thanks." Brooks gratefully accepted what he knew was a compliment. "You sure you don't want to go for a quick shower?"

"No, not tonight." The past was too close. Martin also turned onto his side, wondering about how comfortable he felt with the whole situation. He trusted Brooks all the way, which was a first for him. He didn't trust people in general. Yeah, he trusted Roger, but still, there was always a sliver of doubt, holding him back from truly embracing their partnership. With Brooks, it seemed he'd crossed that line. "Can I ask you for something?" He wasn't sure what made him do it, but it was something he needed and he hoped Brooks would say yes.

"Sure, what is it?" Brooks wondered about the open expression on Martin's face. He saw it so seldom!

"Can you hold me?"

Martin's voice was barely audible and Brooks had to strain to pick up the words, but when he did, he smiled warmly. "Sure, move closer." He opened his arms and waited for Martin to make up his mind, knowing very well that asking to be held was one thing, but to actually take that step, another.

To his own surprise, Martin moved closer and rested his head on Brooks' shoulder. Was he really doing this?

Brooks smiled and pulled Martin into his arms. He kept the embrace loose, giving Martin some space and the opportunity to move away should he reconsider. Martin however surprised him and snuggled up to him. "It's a good thing Todd isn't around," he whispered, amused. "He would either demand to join in, and the bed's too small for that, or he'd be taking pictures to use as blackmail material in the future." Hopefully joking would settle Martin's remaining nerves.

"I wouldn't mind Todd joining in." Martin had a hard time believing how comfortable he felt. Having someone close, holding him and watching over him was still a novel experience. Brooks had held him through the night once before, but not at his request. "Thanks," he whispered, "for everything."

"You're very welcome." Brooks didn't tell Martin to close his eyes or to go to sleep, very much aware of the fact that Nathan would haunt the younger man's sleep tonight. So he would just hold him and offer him silent support.

/

Waking up, Martin felt alert and rested, which was unusual. He'd expected to toss and turn, have nightmares, even a flashback, but nothing like that had happened. Instead he'd gone to sleep within minutes and he'd slept right through the night, only to wake up in Brooks' arms, which made him feel embarrassed. Fuck, he'd hogged the man the entire night! He'd figured Brooks would indulge him till he was asleep and then move away, but no.

"Morning," Brooks whispered, waking up because Martin was moving about. He loosened the embrace, but didn't pull away, letting Martin decide what to do next. "You slept well." He'd expected Martin to have a restless night and had stayed awake himself, wanting to wake Martin in case a nightmare ruined his sleep, but that hadn't been necessary. Eventually he'd fallen asleep himself. The fact that Martin allowed him so close and even felt comfortable being held was nothing short of amazing. "Hungry?"

Martin wondered what to do. He was comfortable, but he should probably give Brooks his space back. "I can eat," he said, and then added, "sorry for –"

"Stop it, Martin. Don't apologize for needing a hug!" Brooks smiled and yawned. "Are you ready to face the day? We should eat and then head home. I have some appointments in the afternoon which I need to keep and Roger is probably bored out of his mind without you harassing him!"

Martin nodded and moved to his side of the bed before sitting up and putting his feet on the floor. "Do we have time for a quick shower?"

"Sure, go ahead. I'll see what I can do about breakfast." Brooks watched Martin head for the bathroom and picked up his phone to check in with Todd. His partner worried and needed to be reassured that everything was fine.

/

Two days later, the situation changed drastically. Nathan Riggs had been stabbed and was in the infirmary. Brooks couldn't help but wonder about the timing. Nathan started reaching out to Martin, claiming to be a changed man and helping his son track down Danny Mancini. He'd pulled the report about the stabbing and also the medical file. Wasn't it amazing that no major arteries had been hit? Sure, Nathan was bed ridden for the moment, but he'd effortlessly make a full recovery. To Brooks, those were too many coincidences all together.

Looking at Martin, who'd insisted on driving part to Amarillo, he knew he couldn't count on the Texan to be rational about this. Martin was extremely emotional at the moment and the logically thinking part of his brain switched off. It was up to him to stay on top of their situation.

/

Brooks recognized the exact moment guilt slipped into Martin's eyes. The doctor telling him she'd pull all her strings to get Nathan out of there if he were her dad messed Martin up pretty bad and Brooks knew he had to be careful. No matter the abuse Martin had suffered, Nathan was his father. There must have been good moments too when he'd been growing up and those would urge Martin to look after his father in spite of everything. Martin cared too much. Brooks had realized that long before and now it complicated matters.

The look Martin gave him spoke of confusion and it told him the Texan was pulled apart between doing the sensible and rational thing, and his heart, which urged him to do the complete opposite. "We need to talk," he told Martin and wrapped an arm around him. "But not here." First, he needed to get Martin somewhere safe, a place where they could talk without Nathan directly influencing his son.

TBC


	37. Chapter 37

Debriefing Riggs

Season 2

Episode 19

Leo Getz Hitched

"You put out a BOLO on Jake." Brooks watched Martin, who nervously paced his office.

When Brooks remained quiet, Martin turned around and faced him. "I told him to stay away. He came back, says he has business here. Putting out a BOLO is standard procedure."

"It is," Brooks agreed. "But the last time you let him get away and I'm not judging. I know why Jake means that much to you. I wouldn't have gotten involved this time either." This had always been Martin's call to make. "Are you sure about this?"

Martin sighed. "I can't let him get away again, Brooks. I gave him his chance and he's back. He said it was about Ben, but he didn't even now it was his kid's birthday. It has nothing to do with Ben, but everything about him getting back in the game. I'm a cop. It's what I do."

"It's what you are." Brooks knew that. Martin's judgment was sometimes a little hazy and he bent the rules occasionally when it meant getting a perp behind bars, but the young man knew right from wrong. "Again, I'm not judging. I just don't want to you to do something you might regret later."

"You think I'll regret going after Jake?" Being honest with himself, Martin didn't know what the right course of action was.

"Not in the way you think," Brooks explained. He'd put down the blinds earlier, so they'd have their privacy. He made his way over to Martin and rested his hands on the other man's shoulders. "The two of you have a lot of history. I get it why you think you owe him. He saved your life that night, that's true, but that doesn't mean you should give him carte blanche."

Sighing, Martin nodded. "That's why I put out the BOLO. Honestly, I don't know what I'll do should I run into him again." Much depended on the moment and the situation he found himself in. Smiling at Brooks, he added, "You let me get away with too much bullshit, you know?"

"No. I don't. Jake saved your life that night and I'm very grateful to the man. If he hadn't shot Nathan, you'd be dead now and I had never met you. So, whatever you decide, I want you to know, it's fine with me. Let Jake go or bring him in, it's your decision."

"Thanks." Martin briefly rested his right hand atop of Brooks' and squeezed gently. "It means a lot to me that you understand what's going on."

It was more than that, Brooks thought. It meant a lot to Martin that he had his back, since he'd never had such unconditional support before. Well, wasn't that what a father was supposed to do? To love his son unconditionally? Apparently Brooks did.

TBC


	38. Chapter 38

Debriefing Riggs

Season 2

Episode 20

Jesse's Girl

Brooks was done with Martin's moping. At the precinct, Martin had been distracted and Brooks couldn't take it no more. He had to know what this was about. He'd been under the impression that everything was finally working out for Martin. Only three days ago, they'd had dinner at Molly's place and everything had been fine. Martin had fully embraced his relationship with Ben and as far as Brooks was concerned, it was the best thing that could happen to both of them. Ben needed a father and Martin wanted to be one. "What's going on? Spill it. What happened?"

Martin allowed Brooks to direct him into the office where he collapsed onto a chair. Resting his head back, he ran his hand through his hair and stared at the ceiling. That Brooks had waited this long surprised him. Normally the older man made him open up sooner.

Brooks had been patient. More so than normal, because he'd hoped Martin would come to him and tell him what was eating him. But since it wasn't happening, he took charge again. Taking an educated guess, he asked, "Is this about Molly and Ben?" He sat down next to Martin, and the other man's expression told him everything he needed to know. "It is. What happened?"

Martin sighed, feeling deeply ashamed of what had happened. "I was teaching him to catch. He's playing Little League but Jake never thought him and I wanted Ben to try."

Brooks frowned. "And why is that a bad thing?"

"I wasn't paying attention throwing him the ball as I was talking to Molly. I hit him in the face. He had a nosebleed." Martin turned his head away and stared out of the window instead, counting on Brooks to read between the lines. That man knew him better than he himself.

Brooks did understand. "Martin, it was an accident. Those things happen." Frustrated that Martin refused eye contact, Brooks got to his feet, walked over to the window and looked him in the eye. Martin allowed it and didn't avert his gaze, which was a win. "You didn't do it on purpose, Martin, accidents happen!"

"Maybe," Martin said and cringed, recalling telling Molly the same thing. But back then, it had been a downright lie. Nathan might not have aimed that bat at him, but had taken into account his son could get hurt. "I don't want to hurt Ben. He means so much to me, and now… Now I did hurt him, maybe even accidentally, but –"

"Not maybe. It was an accident." Brooks pulled up a chair and sat down again, getting level with Martin. He had no idea how Martin was going to react to his next comment, but he had to address the elephant in the room. "Martin, you are NOT your father. You didn't mean to hurt Ben. It was an accident." Seeing Martin wince caused him pain in turn, but he wasn't backing down. He owed Martin to see this through. "Nathan Riggs was an abusive bastard, don't you dare compare yourself to him. You are nothing like him! You're worlds apart! Don't you dare think you're like him. You're NOT!"

Martin swallowed nervously and fought the urge to avert his gaze. Brooks was doing this for him and he had to face the man. "How can you be sure? I did hurt him!"

"Accidentally." Okay, maybe it was time to bring out the big guns. "Does Molly blame you for what happened?"

"No," Martin admitted, although he wondered why. "She doesn't. She says it was an accident and they happen, much like you did just now."

"Molly's a smart woman," Brooks commented and smiled warmly. "Does Ben blame you? Is the kid angry with you?" He'd get through to Martin eventually, he was sure of it.

"No, we talked before I came here. I even told him about my old man and he wants to give baseball another chance. They don't blame me. I blame myself."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Martin. You're doing the best you can, but you're only human, and we all make mistakes. Next time when the two of you practice, you'll both pay more attention to where that ball's going." But he knew what the real problem was. "Martin, you're nothing like him. Nathan messed with your head, you do know that?"

Martin nodded. "Cahill says the same thing, but it's hard, you know…"

"I know that, but Martin, you're doing great. Don't let your father ruin your relationship with Ben. Don't give him that much power. You're stronger than him."

"Do you really believe that?" Martin already read the answer in Brooks' eyes, but he still needed to hear it.

"Yes, I do. And now get out and spend time with Molly and Ben. It's late and you should head home."

"Home," Martin whispered, amazed that Molly's place felt like home to him. Yes, Brooks was right. He couldn't allow his old man to ruin this for him. He was stronger than that.

TBC


	39. Chapter 39

Debriefing Riggs

Season 2

Episode 21 + 22

Family Ties/One More Day

Note à as you'll probably understand Brooks is at the precinct, running it smoothly. Murtaugh doesn't get a shot at being captain (if anyone should, it has to be Bailey). So, these last 2 episodes will not follow the TV series. I'm doing my own thing. Why? Because Martin Riggs deserves his happy ending!

Brooks had cancelled his engagements for the morning, moving them to later that day and quickly made his way over to the trailer. Martin had called him earlier and had sounded terrified. A huge red flag had gone up and Brooks had acted. "Martin?" He knocked to announce he'd arrived and opened the door. A quick look located Martin on the floor with his back against the door, staring straight ahead, but not seeing a thing.

He hadn't seen Martin this bad in a long time. "Hey, what happened?" He sat down on the floor next to the younger man and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Martin shook violently and Brooks tried to give him space, but then the Texan grabbed his wrist and kept him in place. So the contact was wanted after all. "Care to tell me what happened?" His money was on another fucking nightmare.

"Had another dream." Martin shuddered and then shrunk into himself. "The worst one yet."

"Can you tell me what happened in that dream? Maybe I can help." Talking about it helped; Martin had long realized that and Brooks couldn't fight what he didn't know about. "What did Nathan do this time?" And how bad was it? Martin had pretty intense nightmares, and for him to label this one the worst one yet worried him.

Martin moved a little closer, finding comfort in having Brooks close. He soaked up the body heat, as he'd woken to a cold sweat earlier. He still felt frozen to the bone. He should tell Brooks, but it was hard. "I went to visit the Murtaughs and when I got there, Nathan was in the living room telling them about beating me up. They laughed and seemed amused."

"You do know Trish and Roger would never react like that?" It was his job to undo the damage the nightmare had done.

"Yeah, I do, but at that moment, it seemed real. I thought it was really happening." Martin rested the back of his head against the couch. "Then he showed them footage of him beating me up, using that bat of his. They laughed." Trish and Roger laughing had hurt him the most. His father had acted like the monster he was, but the Murtaughs… Seeing them entertained and enjoying him being in pain tore at his heart.

"What happened next?" Martin was right; this might be worst one yet. Patiently, he waited for the Texan to tell him the rest.

"He asked Trish to get the popcorn and that's when I realized he'd manipulated the microwave. I tried stopping her from opening it, but then… The blast felt so fucking real! The pressure wave knocked me off my feet and that's when I woke up."

"Thanks for telling me. You did good," Brooks whispered soothingly. Martin had made amazing progress, confiding in him without being pressured into it. "You're worried because your father moved closer. You expect him to come for you."

"Yeah, he's forty miles down the road. He'll get out in thirteen months. No matter what, I'll have to find a way to deal with him being out there one day. Each time I go down there, I can't stand being in the same room with him. He makes me feel small and helpless."

Brooks tightened his hold on Martin. He'd wanted to start his campaign today, as he planned to run for office, but he was going to cancel his plans for now. Martin needed him and that young man came first any day. He couldn't leave right now. "I want you to make me a promise."

Martin frowned and turned his head. "What kind of promise?" The nightmare had left him exhausted and although he trusted Brooks, he wouldn't blindly promise him something.

"You're not going to see Nathan on your own again. Should you need to talk to him again, I'll tag along." It was the only solution he could come up with. He couldn't forbid Martin to see his father, but he could demand to be a part of those visits. "I don't want him to mess with you anymore than he already has," he added.

"Brooks," Martin said, shaking his head and smiling weakly. "You don't stand a chance against him. He'll tear you apart. Once he knows your weakness, he'll target you – and Todd. I can't take that risk. The two of you mean too much to me."

"Nonsense! Martin, I understand why he frightens you, but Nathan and I don't have history together. He doesn't intimidate me. He's a big bully and you know how much I hate people like that." He'd dealt with bullies most of his life.

"It's too dangerous," Martin insisted.

"Martin, I know what I'm getting myself into. I'm not letting you do this on your own. I won't accept a no for an answer." Normally he would, but not this time. "Do we have a deal?"

"Brooks, don't," Martin whispered, giving the older man a pleading look. He couldn't let him do this.

"We have a deal, let's shake on it." Brooks guided Martin's trembling hand into his and shook it. "Good call, Martin, the best you could make. Now, go shower, and then we're grabbing a bite to eat before heading for work."

Overwhelmed, Martin tried to make sense of what had happened just now. And come to think of it, "Why are you here in the first place? Weren't you off someplace for the next two days? Rog has been going on and on about being acting captain during your absence."

"Oh, Roger isn't going to like this," Brooks muttered beneath his breath, but then smirked. "He'll just have to wait a little longer." He abandoned his plans to run for office for now. As long as Nathan Riggs continued to fuck with his son, Brooks was going to have Martin's back.

/

It was safe to say that Roger wasn't amused at all. Avery had shown up unexpectedly, telling them his plans had been cancelled and they were back to work as usual. He glared at his friend, wondering what he'd done that the universe was messing him with. He deserved this shot to prove himself!

"You'll get your chance," Martin comforted his partner. "Maybe not today, but soon." He knew about Brooks' plan to run for office and although he hated losing Brooks as his captain, the older man had been quick to assure that he wouldn't lose him as a friend and mentor. So he was fine with Brooks trying to get into local government; the man was suited for politics. "Don't be a sore loser."

Roger, still frustrated that he wouldn't be acting captain, glared at his partner and was about to lecture him, when he noticed the dark rings beneath Riggs' eyes. He stopped himself from tearing his partner a new one and frowned in concern instead. "What's up with your zombie routine? Not sleeping?" Which wouldn't be a first. He knew his partner suffered from nightmares and could only imagine how bad things might be now Nathan Riggs had made his way back into his friend's life. He'd never forget that his partner had called Nathan just to get information about his whereabouts when they had retrieved those stolen weapons.

Martin eyed his partner suspiciously. "Leave it." It was bad enough Brooks and Cahill made him discuss his crap; Rog had better not start too!

Receiving the warning loud and clear didn't mean he was going to automatically back down though. "You do know you can talk to me, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do, but seriously, drop it." He'd enough for the moment. He just wanted to forget about his mess for now.

/

Brooks didn't like this one bit. When they had asked Roger, Martin, and him to join them for a briefing on the executive floor, he should have grown suspicious, but Martin's nightmare still had him preoccupied. That changed the moment Nathan Riggs' mug shot appeared on screen. Why hadn't he seen it coming?

Martin froze briefly, but then forced himself to act composed. Seeing his father's face all of a sudden had taken him aback.

Roger saw it happen and wished he could intervene. He wanted Riggs out of the room, shielding him from whatever flashback had made his partner freeze. It was the first time he saw Nathan Riggs and instantly disliked the man. Martin had never described his father in detail, but looking at the man now, Roger got it. Nathan Riggs was tall, muscular, and carried a predator's expression in his eyes. Roger nodded absentmindedly; that guy was dangerous.

Unlike Roger, Brooks could intervene and he did. The moment they offered Nathan Riggs his freedom in exchange for information, he got to his feet. "We'll discuss that later," he told his fellow captains. "Riggs, we need to talk." He grabbed Martin's shoulder and pulled him along into the corridor.

Brooks' action took Martin by surprise and he gasped for breath the moment the older man slammed the door behind them. "What the hell?"

"They didn't tell me! Damn it! I wouldn't have let you attend if I'd known!" But the damage was already done, he could tell by looking into Martin's eyes. The Texan would offer his old man the deal because it meant saving a life. "You're not heading there alone!"

Martin blinked; Brooks' fierce reaction stunned him. "Cap," he said, reminding himself they were at the precinct. "You can't act like that!"

"I can do whatever I want, I'm captain!"

"Then act like one!" Martin buried his fingers in his hair and felt like tearing it out. He got that Brooks felt protective of him, but the older man had to rein it in!

"What's going on here?" Roger had followed them outside, hating being left out. "If you two are heading out there to talk to Nathan Riggs, I'm coming along. I'm not letting my partner go there without me!"

Martin hadn't thought it possible, but things had gotten even worse. "Listen to yourselves," he said, addressing both of them. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Not letting you go in there alone." Roger shook his head. "Not happening."

"What he said." Brooks pointed at Roger. He couldn't agree more!

"Guys!" Martin stopped himself in just in time from banging his head against the wall due to frustration. "You don't get it. He'll come after you too!" He had to make them see reason.

"We don't care," Brooks stated smugly. "We're coming along."

"What he said," Roger said, pointing at Avery.

"I'm so fucked," Martin whispered, shaking his head. This could only end in death and chaos.

/

Martin hated the way his father kept eyeing Roger and Brooks. Allowing them to tag along was a big mistake, he knew that, but damn it, he hadn't been able to stop them. Those two were too damn stubborn for their own good. The fact that Nathan ignored them, only illustrated how intrigued he was. Martin knew his father would have them investigated the moment he was back in his cell. This was one big mistake.

/

Roger observed his partner closely as they made their way down the corridor. He noticed the hurried movements, the way Riggs avoided eye contact and the tension in those shoulders. After finally seeing Nathan in the flesh, he understood why the man terrified Riggs. Nathan had made his skin crawl too. Things had to be much worse for his partner. Brooks caught his eye and they exchanged a look.

Roger realizing how dangerous Nathan Riggs was, was a good thing in Brooks' book. Martin needed support, especially should Nathan succeed in holding up his end of the bargain and get out early. Brooks couldn't help feeling suspicious though. Something didn't add up.

/

"Martin?" Brooks moved the coffee over to the younger man, hoping he'd drink something. Martin hadn't touched his food yet.

Martin looked up and sighed. He didn't know why they were wasting time. They should be talking to Travis instead of stopping for coffee and food! "Yeah?" It was bad enough Brooks was giving him concerned looks, now Roger had joined in too. Why the hell had he ever told his partner about his old man? He'd even told Roger his dad had tried killing him that night. He mentally kicked himself for confiding in him; he didn't want his pity because he was convinced that was all it was.

"How are you doing?" Brooks wasn't letting Roger's presence stopping him from expressing his concern. "That can't have been easy."

"We got the information we needed, didn't we? We should be talking to Travis instead of sitting here. There's a life on the line!" His frustration showed in his voice and impatient gestures.

"We'll talk to Travis," Roger said, getting involved. Until now he'd dodged the bullet, taking the easy way out, but not anymore. "But first we're going to talk about Nathan Riggs." Martin's walls came back up, something Roger hadn't noticed in a very long time and seeing it hurt, but he knew he wasn't the reason why his partner reacted like that. "Facing your father just now took a lot of guts. It was a very brave thing to do." Martin started objecting, but Roger didn't let him. "No, hear me out. I've seen a lot, you know that. Dealt with a lot of perps and I don't scare easily. But that man in there, hell, I understand why he scares you. It's in the eyes, man. That's an apex predator in there and I agree with Brooks, you don't go in there alone. I don't care who tags along, but don't make things easy on him."

Martin sighed and shook his head. "Guys, you need to stop this. It's getting old!" He might act tough, but he didn't feel like it. He would never admit it, but having them at his side helped, even if he worried for their safety. Hearing that Roger thought Nathan was a predator was unexpected. Most of the time, Nathan was a good actor, fooling everyone. But then again, Roger was a good cop with great instincts.

"We're not going to stop worrying about you," Roger said, easily catching the approval in Brooks' eyes. "Ever. You'd better accept that."

What choice did he have? None, so Martin resigned himself to his fate. Instead of one mother hen, he now had two.

/

"Riggs!"

"Yes?"

Martin turned around at hearing his name called, but the fact that the younger man reacted too, stunned him. What was he missing?

An explosion rocked the gas station and he dragged Bailey down with him, hoping they were safe from the blast. Dusting himself off, he could hear Brooks lecturing him already for putting himself in danger, but hey, he'd abided by his boss' rules. He hadn't been out there alone and Brooks had agreed Bailey was excellent back up. So, the only thing he worried about was why that young man had reacted upon hearing that name.

/

Another child? Nathan had sired another son? His half brother? Martin's head reeled, unable to take that in. "Thanks, Bailey," he said, dismissing her as he needed time to deal with this revelation. Brooks and Roger weren't as easily dismissed though.

"I didn't see that one coming." Brooks leaned back in his chair and looked at Martin, who appeared equally shocked. Probably even more so, since the young man's family had suddenly gotten extended. "Did you suspect anything?"

"No," Martin whispered, shocked to the core. Too many thoughts spun around in his head and he tried to make sense of them all. Had his father abused his half brother too? Had the younger man been beaten too? Or had Nathan treated him decently? "I need to talk to my old man."

"I was afraid you were going to say that." Roger nodded though, as he'd seen it coming.

"Roger, take charge here, will you? I'm accompanying Martin. Looks like you'll get your chance to shine after all."

Roger nodded at Brooks, but he didn't want his fifteen minutes fame like that. Not at his partner's expense.

/

Brooks hung back, watching Martin and Nathan closely. This time around, he tried to blend in a bit more. He'd gotten rid of the damn suit and had changed into casual clothing before leaving the precinct. If he was back on street duty, he wanted to be able to move freely and the suit prevented that.

The fact that Nathan kept glancing at him alerted him that the man was up to something. Brooks still felt suspicious. Nathan Riggs was capable of a lot, so why not plan the abduction in the hope to cut a deal that would make him walk out of prison? If that was the case, the plan was working.

Martin suddenly got to his feet and marched out of the room. Brooks was quick to follow, but still noticed the leering grin on Nathan's face.

/

The moment they headed for the truck, Martin started talking. "His name is Garrett," Martin said, hoping to distract Brooks. "He says the kid isn't involved, but I don't believe him." He opened the door and slid onto the passenger's seat, knowing Brooks would get the hint.

Brooks slipped behind the wheel and took Martin's keys when the younger man handed them to him. He didn't start the engine yet though. "How old is the kid?"

"Nineteen, according to my dear old dad. I have a brother!" His head still spun. "Just when I thought the family tree would end with me, turns out he has another kid."

"Maybe Garrett isn't like Nathan? Ever thought of that?"

"No, don't count on it. If you grow up with Nathan as your father, you end up twisted. Garrett will end up in prison too."

"You didn't," Brooks pointed out.

"Not yet," Martin corrected him. "Come on, let's do this."

Brooks started the engine, but didn't like this development one bit. The situation had just gotten way more complicated.

/

"I just want to talk to you!" He'd chased after Garrett and the younger man had finally stopped running.

"I didn't want to do it! They made me!" Garrett wanted to get away from the cop that was hunting him down, but had nowhere to run.

Brooks, who'd opted for a different route, came up behind Garrett and saw the car heading their way. "Look out!" He acted at once and dragged Garrett down with him, saving his life. The car didn't slow down, it even sped up! Too bad he hadn't memorized the plate!

"Let me go!" Garrett struggled, but the smaller man was surprisingly tenacious and he failed to free himself.

"No," Brooks stated as he slapped on the handcuffs. Considering he was dealing with a Riggs, he refused to take chances. "We're taking you in for questioning!"

Martin swallowed hard, realizing they'd just escaped disaster. That car would have crashed into Garrett if it hadn't been for Brooks' quick thinking. At least now he had a chance to talk to his half brother.

"Martin, why don't you take him off my hands?" Brooks saw the strange mix of curiosity and suspicion on the Texan's face and pushed Garrett towards Martin.

Martin cursed Brooks for putting him in that position. He didn't know how to deal with his half brother. "Come on, let's go back to the truck."

"You take him in," Brooks said, stepping away and calling dispatch. "I still got a few things to do. I'll meet you at the precinct." He could be sneaky if he wanted to.

Martin eyed Brooks suspiciously. What things? He was being manipulated, damn Brooks! But he nodded and pulled Garrett along.

Garrett complied, feeling lost. He hadn't wanted to be a part of this kidnapping, but they had made him. Being Nathan Riggs' son gave him a certain reputation, which he didn't want, but he didn't want to disappoint his father either. And Nathan had assured him that a successful kidnapping was important.

"Get in there and no tricks." Martin opened the door to the passenger's seat and strapped Garrett in using the seat belt. He drew in a deep breath before he joined him and slipped behind the wheel. He'd hoped, but never expected to get a chance to talk to his half brother.

"What's going to happen to me?" His father had always told him to stay away from the police, because they were mean and evil, and if he ever went to jail, he'd end up raped. So staying clear of cops had always been a priority.

"We have questions," Martin replied, sensing Garrett's fear. "You'll be fine. If you tell us what we want to know, the DA will cut you a deal and you might get out on parole, if you're a first time offender." He wondered if his younger brother had inherited Nathan's criminal tendencies. Garrett didn't come across as aggressive, but that was just a first impression. The Riggs family DNA was unpredictable.

"I don't want to go to prison, please, I can't!"

Something in Garrett's tone got to Martin and before he knew it, he whispered, "I'll make sure you won't. You have my word." He had no idea how he was going to keep that promise, but he'd find a way.

Garrett was under the impression the cop meant it, which stunned him. Maybe not all cops were bad, like his father had said? "What's your name? That way I can ask for you when I need you."

"Name's Martin," he said, not adding his last name. Turning his truck about, he headed for the precinct, wondering what kind of trouble he'd gotten himself into this time.

/

"Are you certain you don't want to question him yourself?" Roger asked, making sure.

"I can't deal with this crap right now, you do it. I'll watch." Martin preferred to stay behind the mirror this time.

Roger nodded and left, vowing not to screw this up. At the same time, Brooks entered the room and walked over to Martin after nodding at Roger. "How are you holding up?" he asked, watching Martin closely.

"Managing my crap for now.," Martin rubbed his chin. "Kid seems to lack our old man's finesse. He's scared of prison."

"I can imagine." Brooks nodded thoughtfully. "Looking like that and being barely nineteen he'll be cornered in the shower within a day. I'd be scared too."

That observation made Martin cringe. Brooks was right of course. "So what do we do?"

"If he cooperates the DA will cut him a deal. If it means finding Lisa Conlon he might walk away from this a free man."

Martin wasn't sure how he felt about that. "What does your instinct tell you?" He trusted Brooks' judgment.

"The kid doesn't strike me as a criminal. He might be telling the truth and got caught up in his father's games."

"Games?" Martin frowned deeply and looked at Brooks. "What do you mean?"

"Martin, you got Nathan out of a maximum security prison. He's here now, talking and cooperating and suddenly Lisa Conlon gets kidnapped by the AFT? And it just happens your father knows what's going on? What if he expected the DA to offer him a deal and walk away a free man? Can you honestly say that thought didn't cross your mind?" But Martin's shocked expression told him the younger man had truly never even considered it. "I told you I got Nathan Riggs figured out. He won't take me by surprise. I'm ready for him."

Martin felt stunned. Brooks couldn't be right… or was he? It was something his father would do. "Do you really think he planned all this?"

"Never underestimate your enemy, Martin. Especially if you think you know him."

Martin scratched his head, realizing Brooks might be onto something. "I knew there was a reason you made captain."

Brooks grinned. "Don't underestimate me either, Martin. As you said just now, there's a reason I'm captain."

/

Leo Getz getting them a lead on the kidnapping was unexpected, but welcome and Brooks send Murtaugh and Bailey to check on the situation. At the same time, he pulled up any files regarding Nathan Riggs he could get his hands on. Like he'd told Martin, he liked to be prepared.

/

Martin wondered if he wasn't making a big mistake, but went ahead anyway. Garrett looked lost and small sitting in his holding cell. Being honest with himself, he admitted he liked the kid. He tended to believe Garrett when he said he'd gotten involved against his will. Garrett didn't strike him as one of the bad guys, and usually he could trust his instincts, although, he couldn't discount the fact that he was dealing with a Riggs. "Hey, buddy." An officer opened the cell and he stepped inside, sitting down across Garrett, who looked up and froze at seeing him. What was that about?

Garrett felt confused. He hadn't expected to see Martin again, not after learning the man's real name. "You're Martin Riggs."

Martin tilted his head and nodded. "So you know my last name." What did it mean?

"My father told me about you. You're my brother." Nathan had mentioned Martin a couple of times, but never with fondness. His father had repeatedly said that his older brother couldn't be trusted; that Martin would shoot him on sight, because he was jealous. Jealous that Nathan had chosen to look after him instead. But the thing was, Martin didn't strike him as jealous or evil. So far, his brother had treated him decently, even promising to keep him out of prison. He understood that he had to be here for now and that was okay. He felt safe here.

"Half brother," Martin corrected Garrett. "Unfortunately."

Garrett frowned. "What does that mean?"

"Don't worry about it," Martin said dismissively. If Garrett really was an innocent bystander and not involved in their feud, he shouldn't drag his younger brother into the family mess.

"Why are you here?" Garrett didn't know what to make of their situation. According to his father, Martin should have threatened him bodily harm by now, maybe even killed him, but all the other man did was talk to him. And even more importantly, something felt off. He'd expected some sort of emotion coming from Martin, but his brother was distant, as if this didn't concern him.

"I promised to keep you safe, so the least I can do is check how you're doing." His phone alerted him that he had an incoming message and he checked it. He scoffed, shook his head, and put his phone away again.

"What was that about?" The longer he studied his older brother, the more he got the impression that something was very wrong. How could his father have been so wrong? He didn't think Martin was putting on an act. He was good at reading people – most of the time. People always gave off certain vibes and he was sensitive to them. The energy surrounding his older brother was hard to read, but he didn't think Martin meant him harm. He honestly worried, Garrett believed that, and his brother seemed resigned. He didn't like that. "Let me guess, I don't need to know?" he asked when Martin remained quiet.

"Nah, it's no secret." Martin slowly got to his feet, feeling tired to the bone, but it wasn't physical. "Your father just got paroled and will be a free man in an hour." Then his nightmare would begin for real. "And the DA came through on your deal too. There's still some paperwork to be dealt with, but after that, you're free to go!" He signaled the officer to unlock the door. "I wish you the best, kid. Try to stay out of trouble." If not, he'd have to take his brother in again.

"Wait!" Garrett jumped to his feet, wondering what the heck he was doing. He should be glad to get away from the cop. But that cop was also his brother, and he'd heard a lot of stories about Martin, some from his father, but also a lot from his dad's friends. His father hadn't liked him talking to them, but hadn't always been around. He'd heard stuff, rumors, which he didn't particularly like. His father always badmouthed his older brother, but his father's friends had told him different stories; stories, which he'd rather not believe. Maybe this was his chance to find out. "What if I want to go with you instead?"

"With me? Bud, don't. That's a bad idea for several reasons." Nathan wouldn't like Garrett trailing after him. "Your father will probably send someone to pick you up." Nathan wouldn't waste time. He turned around and was about to leave when Garrett suddenly grabbed his shoulder. He repressed the urge to shake him off and stayed still instead. "Now what?"

"I want to go with you. You're my brother and I don't even know you. The only things I know are your name and that you're older. That's it." The more he thought about it, the more he felt he should do this. "I want to get to know you." He wanted to make up his own mind, instead of his father making all decisions for him. "Where do you live?"

"In a trailer down the beach. Garrett, listen to me." He turned around and removed his brother's hand. "You can't stay with me. You don't want to get involved in this mess. Take the safe road and stay with your father."

Garrett hadn't realized it until now but Martin always referred to Nathan as his father, not their father, which was strange. Didn't Martin think of Nathan as his father then? What had caused that? Were those stories true after all? "No, I want to stay with you."

Martin sighed and rubbed his brow. "Kid, don't complicate matters."

"I want to stay with you," Garrett repeated resolutely. "I want to get to know my brother."

"Half brother," Martin muttered beneath his breath and ignored the indignant look it got him. "Fine, but only for one night and you'll call your father and let him know what you're up to." He didn't want Nathan hunting him down just yet. He needed to prepare!

"I'll tell him. He'll understand," Garrett said confidently. "So can I come with you or do I have to stay here?"

The officer who had witnessed their exchange cocked his head, signaling Riggs to take his little brother and get the hell out.

"Thanks," Martin whispered and stepped out of the cell. Suddenly, his life had become much more complicated.

/

Martin stepping into his office was always a welcome sight, but the younger man looked troubled. Putting down his pen, Brooks arched an eyebrow inquisitively. "What did you do?" It was good Martin had come to see him as they needed to talk anyway.

"Garrett wants to stay with me. My old man won't like that." Martin paced the office, feeling caged and on edge. "This will end badly."

"No, it won't, because I'm taking precautions. Martin, where's the kid?"

"I asked Bailey to take him to the break room and get him some cheese puffs. He said he was hungry." Martin collapsed on a chair and ran both hands through his hair, trying to smooth out the mess. "What kind of precautions?" he asked once he registered Brooks' remark.

"I'm putting Molly and Ben in protective custody," Brooks started and raised a hand when Martin wanted to object. "Hear me out."

Sighing, Martin nodded. He should have known Brooks might do something like that. Honestly, it made sense. Nathan had Ben's puppy killed some time ago, which made it obvious the two of them presented targets.

"I also put Trish, RJ, and Riana in a safe house. Roger wasn't amused, but understood why it needed to be done. I have the feeling your father will want some leverage and I'm taking it away from him."

Martin actually felt impressed. "When did you do all this?"

"When you took Garrett back to the precinct." Brooks grinned at seeing the surprise in those brown eyes. "Hey, two can play these games. I'm not giving in so easily. I'll put up a fight and we'll defeat your father."

Martin shivered, suddenly realizing a weak spot. "What about Todd?"

"Oh, you should have heard him! He put up quite the resistance when Bowman arrived. They're on their way over here. He'll stay in a vacant office since he refused to go to a safe house; says he wants to stay close."

"I must admit, I didn't expect you to act that quickly." Or that thoroughly. Brooks had everything covered.

"Well, I'm captain for a reason!" Brooks leaned back in his chair and grinned contently. "Now, I also pulled some strings and you can put your trailer back on your private, little beach. No one will harass you, except your father of course when he comes for you – and Garrett as it seems. We don't want innocent bystanders getting caught up in that, do we?"

"I'm impressed!" Brooks was right; his father would come guns blazing and bringing hell once he realized Garrett may have switched sides. "Anything else?"

"I'm putting a protective tail on you. When you're at your trailer, we'll be watching, just in case Nathan makes a move."

"You really thought this through, didn't you?" He didn't know why, but he hadn't thought Brooks would take charge in such a manner.

"Hey, this guy threatens the people I care about – love. He's not getting away with that. Nathan Riggs WILL lose," he vowed.

His biological father might be a son of a bitch, but the one who had adopted him was quickly becoming his hero.

/

"Do you know Martin well?" Garrett hadn't eaten cheese puffs that often. His father didn't like having them in the house; said it wasn't real food. Only children should have them and he wasn't a child anymore. He liked cheese puffs though.

Bailey wasn't sure what to say. "I've known him for three years now." When they'd been working Jesse's case, she had asked Martin if he had siblings and he'd told her no. Back then, he hadn't known about Garrett, but now everything had changed.

Garrett liked her. He didn't spend much time around girls. His father said they'd only get him into trouble, but she didn't seem trouble. The fact that she was a cop confused him. Like Martin, she treated him just fine and yet, his father had always told them all cops were scumbags and out to get him. That no longer seemed true. He had to rethink this. "Is he one of the good guys?"

"Riggs?" she said and then chuckled, suddenly recalling she was talking to another Riggs. "Martin, yeah, I'd say he's one of the good guys." Garrett possessed an innocence which made her open up. Which was odd, as she seldom did. "Some time ago my baby sister got herself into trouble. She was a thief and that got her into problems. Martin helped me. He didn't question things, he just helped me, so yes, that makes him a good guy in my book."

Garrett grew quiet after hearing that and continued to enjoy the remaining cheese puffs. He had a lot to think about.

/

Ten minutes later, Martin stepped into the break room. Apparently Garrett had moved on to potato chips. "Still want to tag along? It's not too late to change your mind. Your dad is probably stepping through the gate now and ready to collect you." It would simplify everything!

"I want to stay with you." Garrett got to his feet and smiled at Bailey. "Thanks for the snacks. I owe you."

Bailey merely grinned and left. She had the feeling Martin was in for a number of surprises where his baby brother was concerned.

"I just hope it won't get you killed too," Martin muttered beneath his breath. He was a dead man walking, he knew that, but that was okay, knowing Molly, Ben, the Murtaughs and Todd were safe. "Come along then."

Garrett followed his older brother to the elevators and turned around, taking in the activity at the bullpen. He'd imagined things differently, more aggression, more violence, but most cops were either working, drinking coffee, or joking about.

The elevator door opened and a man stepped out of it. He was about six foot tall, tanned, on the muscular side and wore his shoulder long blond hair in a bun, which threatened to collapse at any moment. The thing that struck him as odd though was the fact that he was wearing scrubs. What was a doctor doing here?

"Martin!"

The stranger briefly hugged Martin, then let go of his brother, who looked a bit embarrassed. Garrett frowned, wondering what was going on.

"Todd, sorry to drag you into my mess. I know you're not pleased about this." Martin hated this.

"Don't worry. We always knew this day would come, at least Brooks did. I'm fine with being here. But you, you need to take good care of yourself, do you hear me? Make sure you're safe, don't take unnecessary risks!"

"I can't promise you that, and you know it." Martin smiled at Todd. "Look at the bright side, you get to spend more time with Brooks this way."

Todd shook his head. "I'll be glad when this is over. Call me later, I want to know what's going on. Don't ignore me!"

"I'll update you when there's news," Martin promised. "I need to get going though. I have to move the trailer and take some precautions. Take care, Todd." Turning toward Garrett, he added. "Let's do this."

Garrett stepped into the elevator and watched Todd's stunned expression. He was about to introduce himself when the doors closed and took away that opportunity. "Who was that?" he asked Martin.

"A good friend." Martin pressed the correct button. At least Todd was safe from his father. He himself, not so much.

/

Garrett offered to help move the trailer. Martin had been silent on their way over to the beach and he'd been too shy to start a conversation. But now they were working together and the trailer had been relocated to its former spot. "I like it here," Garrett said, looking out over the sea. He'd seen the sea before, but not from this close and his father had always been in a hurry. There hadn't been any time to enjoy the view. "It's peaceful and calm." Much different from his father's place, where it was always busy, swarming with strangers.

Martin liked it here too and so had Miranda. "You can have the couch. I'll take the chair." He opened the door and gestured for Garrett to go inside. He was trying to remember if he had any food at home. He wasn't sure.

Garrett went inside and looked about, taking it all in. This wasn't the way he'd imagined his brother would live. He liked the trailer, for it was mobile and versatile, but it wasn't a home. It felt more like a shelter, or a hideaway. A pictured frame drew his attention and he picked it up. "She's pretty. Who is she?" Looking at Martin, he caught the pain in his brother's eyes.

"Her name was Miranda. She was my wife, but passed away three years ago. She was murdered." There had been a time when he wouldn't have managed the words. These days, although he still ached, the pain was bearable.

"I'm sorry," Garrett said and quickly put the picture back in its place. His father had never mentioned Martin being married or him having a sister in law. He'd been sixteen when she'd died. He wished he'd known her. She looked kind. He frowned. She did look kind. If Martin really was a son of a bitch as his father claimed, why would a woman like that marry him? A lot of things didn't add up and he realized he couldn't believe the things his father had told him. Nathan had lied to him.

"Don't worry about it. It's in the past." Martin searched the cupboards for something edible. "Are hotdogs okay?" They had to be as he didn't have anything else.

"They're fine." Garrett sat down in the chair and noticed several guns Martin kept at the trailer. They made him nervous; his father tended to shoot a lot, but had never allowed him to handle a gun. "What's up with the weapons?" he asked while Martin prepared the food.

"I'm a cop. I need them to catch the bad guys. Occasionally I have to shoot them, when they run away. Tools of the trade." Martin eyed the hot dogs critically. They had to do. He handed Garrett his plate, took his, and sat down on the couch. Having his brother here was surreal. He hadn't even known he had a sibling! "Want something to drink? Sorry, no booze." He no longer kept alcohol at the trailer.

"Water will do," Garrett replied, eating his food and enjoying the company. He liked Martin, which was unexpected. "Bailey likes you. She thinks you're one of the good guys."

That comment took him by surprise. What had Garrett just said? "Bailey's a good cop, great instincts. She'll make a fine captain one day." He hoped she'd succeed Brooks, should his friend run for office. He might even listen to her – if he lived that long, which he doubted. He handed Garrett the bottled water and had some himself. And now what?

"Thanks for letting me tag along. I can tell you didn't want to." Garrett had finished his food and placed the plate onto the coffee table. It was close to midnight and after the day he'd had, he was getting tired, unable to suppress a yawn.

"You'll change your mind shortly." Garrett would want to return to his father soon enough.

"Maybe not. I like it here. I like you."

Martin swallowed nervously. There was a strange innocence to the nineteen year old boy and he wasn't sure how to respond to it. He knew they had to discuss Nathan and the future in general, but right now, he was worn down and ready to catch some shuteye. "You need anything before we turn in for the night?" He removed his boots and jacket and gestured for Garrett to move to the couch.

Garret followed Martin's example and removed his shoes and jacket too before laying down on his side, facing his brother. Martin made himself comfortable in the chair, but Garrett knew it couldn't be comfy to spend the night that way. Well, in his defense, he hadn't known his brother didn't own a bed!

Martin caught Garrett's surprised gasp when he reached for the Heckler and Koch VP9, the gun he currently favored, made sure it was loaded and pressed it close to his chest. If his dad came for him tonight, he'd find him prepared.

"Why are you doing that? Do you expect trouble?"

"Oh, I do," Martin said, nodding. "But don't worry about it. I'm prepared. Get some sleep." He closed his eyes, hoping his brother got the hint and stopped talking.

Garrett read between the lines and stayed quiet. His brother's behavior worried him. Going to sleep with a gun pressed to the chest wasn't normal in his book.

/

"No, dad, stop it… please!"

Garrett had been awake for some time now. Martin had woken him about twenty minutes ago when the older man's sleep had turned restless. Martin had moved about squirming in the chair and mumbling incoherently. But since a minute or two, he could actually make out words and what he heard, he didn't like.

"Put down the bat, please…"

Martin suddenly sat upright, eyes wide open and panting hard. Garrett didn't know how to proceed. He didn't have much experience in dealing with nightmares.

Martin calmed down his breathing and composed himself once he felt Garrett's eyes on him. He'd forgotten about his brother spending the night at the trailer. At first, he hadn't known who he was and he'd been tempted to aim his gun at the intruder, but then he'd remembered –just in time. "I had a nightmare. It happens. Go back to sleep." He drank some water and pulled his jacket atop of him. He hoped Garrett wouldn't question him.

"I hardly ever have a nightmare," Garrett muttered, unsure if Martin wanted to talk.

"Then count yourself lucky." They always fucked with his mind and this time, Nathan had shown up at the trailer, swinging that bat and hitting him, intend on killing him again. Bah, he could do without those fucking dreams!

"Do you have them often?" Garrett genuinely wanted to know. After all, Martin was his brother and weren't brothers to look out for each other?

"Yeah, all the time, so it's no big deal." Martin closed his eyes again in the hope Garrett would stop talking, but his brother didn't seem to get the hint.

"Are they about our father? You seemed to plead with him to stop hitting you." Garrett bit his bottom lip, knowing he was trespassing, but he wanted to know if those rumors were true.

Martin sighed deeply. So Nathan had told Garrett about his little rabbit? He should have known.

When his brother didn't reply, Garrett sat upright and looked at Martin, who seemed to hide beneath his jacket. "Father always spoke badly of you. He told me you're a bad person and would hurt me if you ever got your hands on me. All cops are dirty and I have to stay away from them. If I ever end up in prison, they will corner and rape me and the guards won't stop them. He never mentioned Miranda, or you being a good guy, like Bailey says. I'm confused."

Martin prayed for patience – and he seldom prayed. His little brother was obnoxious in his innocence.

"You took me in and you also promised to look out for me. You let me stay here and you treat me well. Father always said you'd beat the hell out of me because you were jealous he stayed with me and not with you. When he was tricked into going to prison, he made me promise to stay away from you."

Tricked? Martin scoffed. That poor kid. He turned his head slightly so he could make eye contact. What was he supposed to say to that?

"I heard rumors, which said he used to beat you up. I never asked father directly, but his friends love to tell stories about their past and they mentioned you. Apparently your friend shot father, that's how he ended up disfigured. You teamed up against him." But he no longer believed that. Something wasn't right here. "Will you tell me the truth?" He'd know if it was the truth or lies the moment he heard it.

"The truth?" Martin pushed his jacket out of the way and looked at Garrett. He was too tired to do this now, but his younger brother was awfully alert. Oh, he remembered how much surplus energy he'd had at that age!

"Yes, I want to know. I no longer believe the things he told me. I want to hear your side of the story." Garrett hoped Martin would indulge him, he really wanted to know.

Martin shrugged. "The truth is that he used to beat me up when he was drunk and he was drunk all the time. When I didn't score at baseball, he took that bat and went ballistic. I ended up with more bruises than usual and splinters in my face." Martin pressed deeper into the comfort of the chair. "One night, he was drunk and wrapped his belt around his hand. He liked hitting me with the belt buckle… I tried to fight back and pointed a rifle at him, but I was too much of a coward to pull the trigger. He pulled it out of my hands, threw it onto the ground and started kicking me. Jake, a friend of mine, picked up that rifle and did what I'd failed to do. He shot him, end of story." He didn't care if Garrett believed him; he knew it was the truth as he'd lived it.

Garrett believed him. The emotion was real. His brother wasn't lying. So his father had lied to him and had made Martin into the bad guy instead. "I believe you."

Martin blinked in surprise, as he hadn't expected that. "Your father and mine are quite different. He never raised his hand against you, did he?"

"Not once," Garrett said, watching Martin closely.

"I'm surprised that you'd believe me." If Garrett didn't know their father was violent, then why believe him instead of Nathan?

"I can tell when people are lying," Garrett admitted. "I always wondered about our father. There was always something off about him."

"So you're a human lie detector?" Martin joked, trying to disperse the emotional darkness that clung to his soul. "Must come in handy."

"Sometimes, yes, like now. I'm glad you let me come along. Thanks."

"Don't thank me yet." Martin gave up on trying to tell Garrett to go back to sleep. It seemed his brother wanted to talk instead. That was just his luck! "Nathan won't agree with you staying with me. Did you call him like I'd asked?"

"It slipped my mind." Garrett felt guilty for forgetting about it. "I take it that's bad?" Martin suddenly looked way more worried.

"Let's hope he doesn't think I kidnapped you. Or we might be in for an unpleasant surprise tonight." That ruled out getting more sleep. "Call him first thing in the morning, or even better send him a message right now."

Realizing Martin was truly worried, Garrett uncovered his phone, realizing he had several messages from his father, asking where he was. "I'd better do that now." He quickly wrote back, telling his father he was spending the night at Martin's place, as he wanted to get to know his bother and that he would call in the morning. Getting a reply didn't take long. Two minutes later, his father texted back.

Martin noticed Garrett's unease. "What did he say?"

"That he's picking me up at sunrise, but I'm not going with him. I'm staying with you." He didn't want to be with a man who'd abused his oldest son. Even if said man was his father and had treated him relatively well – until now. He had the feeling that might be about to change once his father realized he believed Martin.

"Great, more complications. Just what I need!" Martin rolled back his eyes, but Garrett wasn't impressed, judging by the smirk on his face. Great, this was just great.

/

Garrett was barely awake when his phone rang. Going back to sleep had taken him a long time after the things Martin had told him. They kept spinning in his head. Opening his eyes, he searched for his phone and he noticed Martin making coffee, looking as exhausted as he felt. The caller ID told him it was his father. He'd rather not talk to him, but knew he had to.

Martin pretended being busy making coffee and tried to ignore Garrett, but that was challenging. The things that had happened last night confused him. Had Garrett really chosen his side?

"Hello, dad," Garrett said, feeling anxious, something that had never happened before. He was on guard, letting his father take the lead.

"Son, what are you doing at that trailer? Come outside. I'm waiting for you. You can't be staying there out of own free will."

For the first time in his life his father's tone sent chills down his spine, catching the aggressive undertone. "I do want to be here. I never met my brother before and I want to get to know him."

"Garrett, that's not a good idea. You don't know Martin the way I do. He manipulates, that's what he does. Before you know it he'll turn you against me. You can't trust him, son!"

Garrett knew he had to be careful, but it wasn't in his nature to lie. "Can't I stay a little longer? Dad, he's my brother."

"Son, get out of that trailer. We don't have time for this. Don't make me come in there."

His father's patience was running short and Garrett realized he had never heard that particular tone before. He felt intimidated and got to his feet. He walked over to Martin, as if seeking protection. "Can't you tell him that I want to stay?"

Martin scoffed; like Nathan would listen to him, but he'd try, for Garrett's sake. "Give me the phone." Inhaling deeply, he hoped his voice wouldn't give him away. "Garrett wants to stay. Maybe you should cut him some slack."

"Did you already turn him against me? Martin, I'm coming inside and he's leaving with me. Don't stop me."

Fuck, Nathan was here? Martin looked outside and cringed at seeing the black SUV. The car door opened and two heavily armed men stepped outside, then his old man appeared, and Nathan was packing too. He was still trying to come up with a reply when Garrett's frightened expression registered with him. "Hey, you're safe." But for how much longer?

Suddenly a cop car pulled up, with flashing lights and a siren. "Looks like you have to visit another time, dad." At the other end, Nathan cursed and then ended the call. The three men got back into SUV and quickly took off.

"Looks like back up arrived just in time," Martin muttered, handing Garrett his phone. "Want coffee?" He seldom made any and wasn't sure just how good – or bad –it would taste.

"Yes, please." Garrett's head still reeled from had happened just now. His father had threatened Martin! If those cops hadn't shown up, then… then what? Then his father would have stormed inside to get him and drag him off against his will. He didn't know his father like that and was beginning to realize Nathan wasn't the man he'd pretended to be. All of a sudden, he looked at Martin and saw him in a different light. His brother had tried to protect him!

"What did we witness just now?" Brooks reached the trailer first and opened the door, addressing Martin. "Was that Nathan?" He'd been tempted to go after the SUV, but needed to make sure Martin was fine first. "Roger, put out a BOLO for that SUV," he told his former partner over the phone, who was still in the car. "Looks like we got here just in time." Brooks looked at them, noticing some family resemblance.

"My father wants me to go with him. I want to stay," Garrett explained while gratefully sipping his coffee. "Do you have something to eat too?"

Martin hated disappointing Garrett. "Those hot dogs were the last edible thing in the trailer."

"Don't worry, we came baring food!" Roger appeared in the doorway, carrying sandwiches. "I know what you're like first thing in the morning, Martin, so I brought food. What?" He placed the sandwiches on the table. "I can't call you Riggs! There's two of you now. God help us!"

"You know he'll be back," Brooks said, declining the coffee after getting a sniff of the deadly brew. If he drank that, his stomach would end up ruined for the rest of the day and it was way too early for that. "And this time he'll come prepared."

"I'll be waiting for him." Martin looked about the trailer. He'd clean his weapons and search for those grenades he kept around. If only he remembered where he'd put them. "You take the kid with you though. I don't want him to get hurt over this." This was between Nathan and him. Garrett didn't belong in the fire line.

"I'm staying," Garrett announced firmly. "If you're going to face him, so will I."

"Merciful God, just kill me," Martin whispered and shook his head. "Have you ever fired a gun?"

"No, why?"

Martin arched an eyebrow. "Because daddy dearest will turn up shooting and trying to kill me. You can't defend yourself and you shouldn't be here. Rog, please take him to the precinct."

"No, I'm staying!" Garrett put his foot down. "If this is a family thing I deserve to be involved!"

"Deserve?" Martin rolled his eyes back. "Brooks, help me out here, please!"

Brooks felt torn. He understood where Garrett was coming from, but he also didn't want the boy to get hurt. "Martin is right. It's not safe for you here."

"He's my brother. You don't desert your brother!" Since Garrett had realized he'd been loyal to the wrong person, he felt the need to make up for his mistake in judgment. Martin suddenly banged his head into a cupboard, startling him. "What are you doing?"

"You're driving me insane!" Martin wagged a finger at Garrett. "Go with Rog, now."

"No!"

Brooks studied both of them. Apparently stubbornness was a character trait the two brothers shared. "What if Martin joins us at the precinct, would that be okay?" He hoped the compromise worked.

Roger grinned; his captain's shrewdness impressed him. "Yeah, that way the mayhem doubles. Come on, Riggs! Both of you."

Martin shook his head at them. "Guys, I need to deal with my dad."

"You will, but not here, and not now. Your brother's safety comes first, doesn't it?" Brooks hated manipulating Martin, but the younger man left him little choice.

Damn, Brooks had him and the older man knew it. "Okay, but only for a few hours. And I need to pack first." If he spend his morning at the precinct, he'd be cleaning his weapon collection there.

Amazed, the three of them watched Martin collect his guns and rifles, stuffing them into bags, which he carried over to the truck.

Brooks was the first to react. "Is he preparing for a war?"

"It certainly looks like it," Roger admitted, feeling ill at ease. "You know we can't let him come back here. His father will be waiting for him."

"Try stopping him if you dare," Brooks said, realizing he'd have a hard time getting through to Martin.

"How about a trap?" Garrett had been thinking along, although he wasn't sure why he wanted to ambush his father. Oh well, maybe because for what he had done to his older brother and threatening them moments ago?

"Actually, I like that idea." Brooks could work with it. "Let me think about it and now get into that truck. We need some sort of plan."

Garrett offered them a shy smile. Maybe cops were the good guys after all.

/

Martin considered calling Molly and Ben to check on them, but decided against it. He didn't want to do anything that could endanger them. Nathan listening in on phone calls was improbable, but he refused to take the risk.

As they made their way out of the parking lot, Martin fell into step with Roger, while carrying his weapons. He wanted them in prime condition by the time he left. "Did you talk to Trish and the kids?"

"Yeah, they're fine. Not too happy about the situation, but better safe than sorry." Roger correctly interpret the look his partner gave him. "Don't you dare feel guilty about this. This isn't your fault. It's your father's." He barely knew the guy personally, but already hated him. He wished he could do more to help. "How are you getting along with your long lost brother?" He wasn't sure yet what to make of Garrett.

"I honestly don't know," Martin confessed and his gaze came to rest on his brother, talking cheerfully with Brooks. Those two seemed to get along fine, but then Brooks could be charming if he wanted. "He turned too quickly against his father, if you get me."

"What happened last night? Something must have changed his mind." Roger had a fairly good idea a nightmare might have happened, considering how often Martin had them.

"We talked," Martin said, without giving away any details. "And he seemed to believe me. He says he can tell when people are lying. And since I wasn't, he believes me. Sounds a bit too easy."

"Riggs," Roger said, and stopped his partner, turning him toward him. "Did it ever occur to you that Garrett might have had doubts about his father before any of this happened?"

"Not really. He was staying with Nathan, wasn't he?"

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but maybe this thing isn't black and white; maybe there's a lot of grey. Give the boy a chance, will you? What do you have to lose?"

Nothing? Or a lot? If he befriended Garrett and his brother was merely leading him on, he'd be hurt. He wasn't sure he could take that risk. His family history was already way too messed up.

/

Bailey chuckled when Garrett walked toward her. "Back already for more cheese puffs?" She didn't know why, but she liked the kid.

"No, but thanks, we had something called BAB's earlier. They were good. May I?" he asked before sitting down.

Quite the chivalrous kind, Bailey thought and nodded. "Back with more questions then?"

"Maybe," Garrett hinted and presented his gift to her. "Do you like chocolate?" He pushed the chocolate toward her.

"A bribe?" Bailey laughed warmly. This kid was gold.

"Maybe," Garrett said again. "Maybe I do have some questions, but if you don't want to answer them, that's fine. That's your call."

Garrett was oddly refreshing. Bailey nodded. "Let's hear them first. Then I'll decide if I answer them."

"Do you know if my father ever threatened Martin?" Oh, now he was doing it too, distinguishing between his and Martin's father, which was weird as they were one and the same person!

"Your father has been in prison, so it might be hard for him to threaten Riggs, Martin," she corrected, seeing Garrett's confusion.

"But there's bad blood between them?" Garrett wasn't giving up yet.

"I think so. Martin is a good cop and your father… Nathan Riggs has a lot of convictions and has been in and out of prison. I'd put my money on Martin if I were you."

"Garrett? Maybe I can help." Brooks had been listening in, but hadn't intervened yet; he'd been curious as to how things would turn out.

"You're Brooks." He remembered Martin calling the other man by that name.

Bailey grinned. Hardly anyone got away with calling their captain that.

"Yeah, I'm Brooks, come on, let's go into my office."

Garrett got to his feet and followed the older man. "Where's Martin? I haven't see him around for a while now."

Brooks opened the door to his office. "Taking apart, cleaning, and assembling his guns. He likes being prepared." Martin was doing that in the office Todd temporarily occupied and was probably driving his life partner crazy. "Take a seat," he said invitingly.

"Thanks." Garrett tried making himself comfortable, but the chair was awkward.

"I take it you have questions about your father?" If he answered them, he could control the things Garrett learned about Nathan and Martin. He didn't want any rumors to get to Garrett instead.

"Last night, Martin had a nightmare. He told me that my father used to beat him up when he was younger. I believe him."

So it wasn't a question exactly. Garrett had already made up his mind. "It's true," he confirmed. "I read the medical reports myself. Martin often ended up in hospital."

Thoughtfully, Garret said, "My father never raised his hand against me, but there were rumors. His friends told stories behind his back. I always knew I had a brother, but I thought he was evil."

"The only evil I know is Nathan Riggs." Brooks wasn't sure that was the right thing to say, but he wasn't going to lie. And he had the feeling the kid suspected his father had been lying to him all along. "Martin saved many lives, Garrett. He's a good cop. I'll be honest, yes, he has a lot of personal issues, due to his violent upbringing, but he'd never take it out on anyone else."

"But on himself?" Garrett had startled when Martin had smashed his head into the cupboard that morning.

"I'm afraid so." Wow, Garrett really had Martin pegged and in such a short time! Maybe there was some truth to the boy being a human lie detector.

"So you run this place?" Garrett looked at the officers and detectives working in the bullpen.

"I'm captain, yes, I run the Robbery and Homicide department." That was quite a change in subject though! What had brought it on?

"You're Martin's boss then?"

"Yes, I am." Brooks frowned. What did Garrett really want to know?

"And you're friends too?" He wondered about that. He'd seen them interact.

"Very good friends, yes." Where was this headed?

"Hum… and this other guy, Roger… He's a good friend of Martin's too?"

"Yes, kid, just say it!"

"Nothing." Garrett grinned. He liked them all, Bailey especially. His instincts told him he could trust them. But then his grin faded.

Brooks realized he had another orphaned Riggs on his hands. Boy, was he in trouble! "What is it now?" At least this one opened up much easier.

"If you're the good guys, that makes my father the bad guy." That hadn't fully registered with him until now.

"I'm sorry, Garrett. I wish it wasn't so." And it was the truth. Garrett had thought of the world of his dad and now the man had fallen from his pedestal. "Try to think of it like this… You gained a brother and it's a good trade. Martin's loyal. He has your back."

"I know he does." Martin had backed him up that morning when his father had called him on the phone. "It's just a lot to take in."

"I get that." Brooks wished he could do more. In some ways, Garrett did remind him of Martin. "Is there anything else I can help you with?" He did have to go back to work. He still had to locate and deal with Nathan Riggs.

"Not at the moment. Can you tell me where my brother's at?"

"Take the elevator, press 8 and look for 156. You'll find him there."

"Thanks, Brooks! I appreciate it!"

Brooks looked at Garrett as the young man made his way to the elevator. He didn't really know what to make of him. Garrett Riggs was an enigma.

/

Todd gave Martin a displeased look. "Do you really have to do this in here?" He was doing some online research on a patient he was treating. So far he failed to make progress as Martin kept distracting him. His desk was stuffed with hand guns, automatic rifles and even some knives. "This is ridiculous!"

"Is it?" Martin finished assembling the Spike's Tactical Compressor and moved onto cleaning the Remington M40A5. It was the last one he had to check. All other gear was in working order. "I like to be prepared."

"I get that!" Todd shook his head, exasperated. "What I don't get is this!"

"You don't? Clearly you never met my old man, and let's keep it that way. I definitely don't want the two of you to ever meet!" Such a meeting wouldn't end well for Todd.

"Martin, do you have any idea how many gunshot victims I operate on in just one week? About twenty!"

"I expected a lot more, like thirty." Martin knew he shouldn't, but he enjoyed baiting Todd.

"You're hopeless!" Todd threw his arms in the air, giving up. At that moment, a young man appeared at the door and knocked. "Anyone you know?"

Martin turned his head and exhaled. "Damn, I thought I'd shaken my tail."

"Is that Garrett?" Todd smiled at the young man, who seemed insecure. "Come in!"

"You had to do it. You had to ruin my morning!" Martin cursed and glared at Todd. "Why? I'd just gotten rid of him!"

"He's your brother, Martin," Todd said, gently. "Remember that, and the fact that he's just a kid. He needs a big brother."

"He doesn't," Martin said, needing to have the last word.

Todd merely glared at Martin before turning his attention to the new arrival. "I'm Todd and you must be Garrett."

Garrett smiled, pleased. "Did my brother tell you about me?"

Since Garrett was looking at his back, Martin dramatically rolled back his eyes, which made Todd kick him beneath the desk. "Ouch," he whispered, giving Todd the evil eye.

"Behave yourself." Todd was done with Martin's childish behavior. Oh, he understood why Martin was misbehaving. Finding out he had a younger brother had to be unsettling.

"Brooks mentioned you being here." Caught between awe and apprehension, Garrett took in Martin's weapon collection. "Do you really think you need all that?" Did Martin truly think their dad was that dangerous?

"I said the same thing, but Martin's being stubborn." Todd went back to his research while keeping an eye on them.

"I like being prepared." Garrett walked over the desk and smiled at him, frustrating him. "You're way too trusting," Martin told his younger brother.

"Maybe," Garrett said, "depends on the person I guess. I do trust you though."

"Which will be your downfall. Everything I touch explodes."

"Don't touch my laptop!" Todd gave Martin the evil eye.

"Maybe I should test that theory again." Martin raised his arm and reached for Todd's laptop, but the other man snatched it away. "You're no fun."

Todd placed the laptop back on the desk. "Are you finished grooming your weapons of mass destruction? Then get out of here."

Martin had finished indeed and carefully placed them back in the bag. "Time to head back for the trailer anyway and wait for dad to make his move. You," he said, pointing a finger at Garrett, "stay here. Todd, keep an eye on him!"

"So now I'm the babysitter? I don't think so. He's your little brother. It's your job to look after him."

Martin barely stopped himself from cursing loudly. "You…" he glared at Todd, then at Garrett. "Let's go, buddy."

Garrett happily followed Martin into the corridor. "Where are we going?"

"You aren't going anywhere. Bowman, over here!"

Bowman looked up, surprised, and only then noticed Riggs. "What's up?"

"This guy is in protective custody. His name is Garrett and you're responsible for him. See you, kid!" Martin quickly stepped into the elevator and ignored Garrett's indignant look. It was time to go hunting.

/

"He did what?" Brooks couldn't believe it. "He left? Just like that?" They had gathered around Martin's desk in search of clues; Bailey, Roger, Todd, Garrett and now Bowman was involved too. "Just wait till I get my hands on him!"

"Brooks." Todd looked at his life partner, silently telling him to rein it in. He felt equally worried though. "What's our next step?"

"Bailey, run a trace on Riggs' phone and keep me updated. Where do we think Martin's headed?" Brooks reached for the gun in his bottom drawer and put it into his holster. He wasn't going to sit in his office and let them do the work.

"He's heading for his trailer," Garrett told them. "He was serious about going back there. He does believe my father will come for him."

"Might be," Brooks conceded, especially since the trailer stood alone on the beach. "All right, we'll go there first. Bailey, any luck yet?"

"He turned his phone off. I can't trace it!" Bailey hated being the bearer of bad news.

"We'll check the trailer first." Brooks quickly said his goodbyes to Todd and then headed for the elevator before realizing something. Garrett was following him. "You're not coming along," he told Garret firmly.

"I am! Martin's my brother!" And their father was out to get him! If he could help, in even the slightest way, he would.

"Avery, we don't have time for this," Roger told his captain. "We need to move now!"

"Damn it!" Brooks knew his friend was right. "But you're staying in the car and you'll follow orders."

Garrett nodded, though he didn't intend to follow that instruction. If his brother was in danger, he would help him!

/

Martin parked the truck in front of the trailer so his dad knew he was back. It was only a matter of time before Nathan showed up. He used that time to prepare by readying and positioning his guns .Then he searched and finally found those missing grenades.

Turned out he didn't have to wait for long. Thirty minutes later, two black SUV's pulled up. It seemed his dad had brought along some reinforcements, smart move! He'd already smashed the windows and installed his Spike's Tactical Compressor. He had a lot of ammunition and could hold out for some time. He just hoped he nailed Nathan with a shot.

"Martin, I want my son back. Send him out! I don't want Garrett hurt."

So Nathan worried about this son? It figured the man forgot he had two of them, not one. Martin didn't react, he merely adjusted his angle.

"I don't want the boy hurt, Martin, send him out!"

This was getting boring, so Martin released the first salvo of gunfire, hoping to take down at least one of them. He'd counted eight, excluding his pops. He was outgunned and outnumbered in the long run, but planned on going down fighting.

"Make sure that boy of mine is safe, Martin, or else you'll pay!"

A moment later, a brutal storm of bullets descended onto the trailer, ripping it apart. Martin ducked and waited it out. Five minutes later, a temporary silence made him check on the situation, discovering one of them had sneaked closer. He took him out with a single shot to the head. One down, eight more to go.

/

"That stupid, stupid…" Brooks stopped himself just in time, realizing Garrett gave him worried looks. Even from this distance they heard the gunfire.

"At least we know where he is," Roger deadpanned, uncovering his gun. "Any last minute instructions, cap?"

"Just make sure Martin makes it out alive. I'll deal with the fallout." Because the fallout would be massive, no matter what happened.

"Got it."

/

Martin knew the end was near. He was almost out of ammunition. He'd taken down four more of them, but his father evaded his bullets, damn it! Reaching for another round, the door swinging open surprised him, and before he knew it, Nathan's ugly face stared back at him.

"Well, son, time to end this."

Martin started aiming at his father, but Nathan quickly kicked the gun out of his hand and then pounced on him. The man was heavy and just as strong as he remembered. Those fists still packed a potentially lethal punch. He fought back, but then he gasped, realizing his father had stabbed him. Disbelievingly, he stared at the knife protruding from his stomach; the sudden pain shocked his system and brought him to his knees. Nathan resolutely grabbed him by the neck and threw him out of the trailer and onto the sand.

They didn't fight fair. His father's remaining muscle got in the occasional punch, while he tried to fight back. Nathan slammed him into the sand, grabbed the knife and twisted it, grinning diabolically. Martin fought hard not to pass out, but knew he was losing the battle. He couldn't possibly hope to win. His father would win after all.

/

"No, that's not happening!" Brooks took aim and started shooting. He hit one of the muscle, who dropped onto the sand. At the same time, Murtaugh, Bowman and Bailey also opened fire, taking down more perps.

Garrett had a hard time believing his eyes. Martin was on his back, a knife sticking from his abdomen and their father's hands were tightly wrapped his brother's throat, squeezing the life out of him. "No, stop it!" Helplessly he looked to Brooks for help.

Brooks intended to stop it indeed. "Roger, do you have a shot?"

"No, they keep moving!" Roger felt frustrated.

"I've got a shot!" Bailey called out as she came a halt.

"Take it," Brooks shouted, uncaring who took down Nathan Riggs, as long as it happened. He wanted the man dead!

Martin had no idea what was happening. Oxygen deprivation made it hard for him to think and he was back there again, in their house. His father was beating him and those reptilian eyes were cold and void of love. The thing that had stared back at him back then, was staring at him now and it was pure, undulated hatred. Losing consciousness, he regretted dying in this way. Nathan had finally gotten what he wanted after all!

Bailey took the shot and Roger fired as well. The two bullets hit Nathan in the head, one after the other, instantly taking him down. Nathan dropped onto the sand and blood poured from the head wound. Nathan Riggs never realized what happened.

Suddenly, Martin was able to breathe again, and he gasped, desperately trying to draw in air. He wheezed, wondering what was up with him and being strangled. This was the second time he'd almost died that way!

"Martin!" Brooks arrived first and dropped to his knees, checking him over. "You're breathing," he realized, "that's good. Stay down for goodness sake!" he told Martin when the young man tried to get up. "You're safe. Nathan's dead."

Martin continued to struggle for breath and stared at Brooks in disbelief. What?

"Double shot to the head," Roger announced, pleased, as he lowered himself on his heels to check on his partner. "This was a team effort. Well done, Bailey!"

She turned around to check on Garrett who stared at his father's corpse in shock. "I'm sorry, I had no choice." She had saved Martin's life, but she had also killed Garrett's father.

"No," Garrett whispered, trying to make sense of what had happened. "You had no choice." His father had been chocking Martin. If they hadn't shot his father, his brother would be dead now. He moved closer to Martin and stared at the knife in shock. "He stabbed you!" Their father had actually stabbed Martin in the abdomen!

"Yeah," Martin said, then coughed. "That thing needs to go."

"No!" This time, Brooks was prepared. "You're not touching it!" He tightened his hold on Martin's right hand and put his knee onto his left, making sure he couldn't pull out the knife. "We're waiting for the paramedics to get here." Thankfully Bowman was already on the phone with dispatch.

Martin turned his head and stared straight into his father's face, or what was left of it. Someone had finally finished the job Jake had started. His father's face had exploded and the man was barely recognizable. The bastard was finally dead. Martin closed his eyes and tried to regulate his breathing. At least this wasn't as bad as being hung from a tree!

"Martin?" Garrett wrapped his fingers around his brother's left hand. "I've got him," he told Brooks, who released Martin from his hold.

"Make sure he doesn't pull out the knife," Brooks told Garrett, fully aware the Texan was capable of doing something like that. "Martin's fast, so hold on tight and be prepared to stop him."

"You're not pulling out the knife!" Roger glared at his partner, then realized Martin was staring straight at his father's face. He removed his jacket and covered Nathan's face with it. "Look the other way, Riggs," he told his partner in a gentle tone. Martin didn't need more nightmares added to his already extensive list.

"Hey, look at me instead." Brooks gently turned Martin's face toward him. "What possessed you to face him alone? You should know by now that we have your back!" Until Martin fully realized that, he was putting him on desk duty!

"Didn't want any of you to get hurt," Martin explained, tiredly, trying to lock out the pain emanating from his abdomen. "He was my mess."

"No, he wasn't. He was ours," Roger said firmly. Thankfully this was one mess they'd successfully dealt with. Maybe now his partner could put that monster to rest.

/

Brooks kept pacing the waiting area. Todd was on his way over and Garrett was staring down the corridor, hoping for someone to update them. "He's tough." Brooks tried to comfort the upset young man. "Martin isn't critically injured and he'll turn up shortly, complaining about us being overly worried. Trust me, I've ample of experience."

"Our father wanted to kill him. He was choking Martin, his son, my brother. I don't understand." Although he'd witnessed the whole thing, accepting that his father had been a monster in disguise took time.

Brooks walked over to Garrett. "Give it time, let it settle down. Your brother survived, let that guide you." It was good to see that the youngest Riggs took more after Martin than after Nathan. He had hope for the two of them. Once they got to know each other better, they'd bond, he was sure of it.

/

"He'll be out in a few minutes," Todd told them. He'd talked to the medical staff. "No heavy lifting for the next two weeks and he'll probably be short of breath for some time, but he's been through worse. He'll be driving us insane in no time!" He wrapped his lover up in a hug and held him close. "I hope this is over now. I can't deal with much more."

Brooks shared that sentiment. It was about time Martin stopped putting himself in danger.

Finding out that the LAPD captain was gay had been quite the revelation for Garrett who had lived a sheltered life. His dad would never condone such a relationship, but he could tell the two men deeply cared for each other, so them being gay didn't matter much to him. He was more interested in finding out how his brother was doing.

Martin walked through the door ten minutes later. He expected Todd and Brooks to be there, waiting for him, but finding that Garrett had also stayed was unexpected. Looked like his brother was determined to stick around, though he didn't know why. Now that Nathan was dead, the boy was free to go.

Before he knew it, Brooks had wrapped an arm around him and guided him toward the doorway. He'd already called Molly, calming her down and telling her he would drop by her place in a day or two. First he needed to deal with what had happened and he always did that best at Brooks' place. So he would stay with them for the next few days. He hadn't even had to ask, Todd had merely told him there were heading home the moment he was released.

Todd, finding Garrett looking lost, turned toward him. "Do you want to come along?" He wasn't even sure Garrett had a place to stay. The trailer, which had been shot to pieces, was a goner. No one could live there.

"Thanks, I'd love that!" Garrett had hoped they'd invite him and fell into step with the older man, looking forward to spending more time with all three of them, but Martin especially.

"Really, do you have to invite him?" Martin's voice was still raspy and he had daddy dearest to thank for that.

"We can't abandon him," Brooks lectured Martin gently. "Besides he's your brother and still has a chance to turn out right. Don't take that away from him. I like him." Garrett might be more like Martin than their father, but the Texan had to discover that himself. Seeing the strangulation marks around Martin's neck reminded him just how glad he was that Nathan Riggs was finally dead. The man had really tried to kill his oldest son!

Deep down in his heart Martin knew Brooks was right. He still didn't like it though.

/

"The couch will do, don't worry about it." Their home was lovely and Garrett took an instant liking to the place. "Where's Martin sleeping? He should be in a proper bed after everything he's been through."

Brooks raised an eyebrow and wiggled it at Martin. If that didn't prove his point, nothing would. The kid was nothing like Nathan!

Martin ignored it; he was still good at that. "Guestroom," he said slowly, realizing he had no fight left inside him. He was tired, physically, but above all emotionally. Fighting his father had taken a lot out of him and that horrible flashback near the end had nearly done him in. Although it was only seven PM he decided to turn in and get some sleep, hoping against all hope the nightmares would leave him alone for just one night. "Night," he said and then headed upstairs. Climbing the stairs was challenging and his wheezing increased.

"Someone should help him." Garrett didn't like that sound at all.

"Maybe you should," Brooks hinted after exchanging a look with Todd, who nodded. He'd noticed the way Martin fought the growing relationship with his brother and Brooks understood why the Texan reacted like that. Letting someone in and trusting him wasn't easy after having been betrayed or disappointed so often in the past. But he thought Martin should try again. He had the feeling Garrett was in it for the long run.

"You're right," Garrett said, after quickly thinking it over. "He's my brother. I should look after him. Do you think he'll let me?"

Brooks chuckled. Garrett knew Martin only a day or two, but had already figured him out. "You may have to push a little, but hang in there. You need to convince him you really care." He wanted them to bond. Wouldn't it be amazing if the two of them became friends? Nathan Riggs would probably turn over in his grave –once the man was buried.

"Thanks for reminding me!" Garrett headed for the staircase and followed his older brother.

"These Riggs men are quite something," Todd mused aloud. "Let's not discuss Nathan, but… Garrett here, I'm still trying to figure him out."

"I think that what you see is what you get. He's quite different from Martin, still trusting in many ways. He's also a charmer, but in a different way."

"He's way more naive," Todd said, trying to put his impression in words. "Not exactly green, but…"

"I know what you mean," Brooks said, taking over. "I thought Nathan might have corrupted him, but there's a strange innocence about him."

"They'll figure it out. Let's start dinner. They might not be hungry now, but I have the feeling they'll show up once they start smelling the food."

"Pasta?" Brooks grinned conspiringly. Todd made a mean pasta Carbonara.

/

Martin collapsed on the bed and tried to control his breathing. His dad had really done a number on him – again. He'd been convinced Nathan would finally kill him and the feel of those cold hands wrapped around his throat still caused him to tremble.

That they'd succeeded in taking out Nathan was nothing but a miracle. If he hadn't seen the corpse, he wouldn't have believed it. But Nathan Riggs was dead – finally. Maybe now he could find some peace – eventually. He knew better than to expect the nightmares to simply stop because his old man was dead. Slowly, he curled up on his side and pulled the duvet up to his shoulders. Why couldn't he stop shivering? He wasn't cold.

"Can I help?" Garrett remained in the doorway, suddenly debating his decision to check on his brother. Martin looked exhausted and his breathing was still off. Maybe he should back down instead.

Martin opened one eye, too tired to bother opening both. "Nah, I'm fine. Go bother Brooks and Todd." He still hadn't accepted the fact that Garrett seemed to care about him.

Spotting the wingback chair, Garrett made his way over to it. "Is it okay if I sit here?" He didn't want to leave Martin alone, he worried.

"Knock yourself out," Martin whispered, his wheezing increasing now that he continued talking. "Just let me sleep."

"Shall I wake you when you have a nightmare?" It seemed the proper thing to offer, recalling the way the nightmare had unsettled Martin the night before.

"I don't care." His frustration got the better of him and he closed his eyes.

Garrett got the hint, but didn't let it influence his decision. He was staying.

/

An hour later, delicious smells coming from the kitchen woke Martin from his sleep. He felt disorientated and needed a moment to remember where he was and what happened before. Sensing he was being watched, he opened his eyes and found Garrett smiling at him, apparently pleased that he was awake again. That fucker was way too chipper!

"Brooks told me that they're making dinner and want us to join them. I'm hungry and I'm guessing, so are you." Garrett felt relieved since Martin hadn't experienced any nightmares during his rest. His brother had slept peacefully.

He was hungry, Martin couldn't deny it, but the bed was a warm and comfortable nest which he didn't want to leave. However, knowing Brooks and Todd, they'd drag him down if necessary. They'd make sure he ate. "I'll manage," he muttered and elbowed himself upright. "What are you still doing here? Don't you have places to go, people to harass?"

"I'm not sure where I should go. During the time our father was in jail, I stayed with friends of his, but I don't like them. They're rough and rude."

Probably his dad's pals from the Aryan Fraternity. Martin couldn't blame the boy for not wanting anything to do with them now Nathan was dead. It also meant he had to find Garrett a place to stay. Maybe Brooks and Todd could take him in? Temporarily of course. Martin himself planned on moving in with Molly and Ben, either here or in Texas. The fact that he had a brother might make him postpone moving back home. "We'll work on that." Martin placed his feet on the floor and suppressed a flinch when his abdomen reminded him that he'd been stabbed recently.

"I'll just stay with you!" Garrett remarked in a chipper tone.

God help him, the kid was going to be his death! "We'll see about that." He pushed himself to his feet and swayed before finding his footing. Surprised, he noticed Garrett had moved as well, wrapping an arm around his shoulder to steady him. "What do you think you're doing?"Stunned, he stayed in place.

"Steadying you," Garrett remarked and frowned. "I want to help."

Martin forced himself to remain calm. "Then don't."

"But you're my brother!" Garrett refused to back down.

"Ah, looks like everything's under control in here." Brooks had watched them from the doorway and liked what he saw. Garrett was reaching out and Martin doing his best to keep his distance, but Brooks had the feeling Martin was doomed to fail. If Garrett kept it up, Martin would eventually do the same thing. It took a little time though as Martin didn't trust easily. "Dinner's ready." Seeing that his assistance wasn't needed, he turned around and left.

"I don't need your help!" Martin stepped away, breaking contact.

"I'm keeping an eye on you though." Garrett smiled. "We should get going it. It's not polite to keep them waiting."

Martin exhaled deeply and promptly regretted it. Damn that kid!

/

Martin ate on auto pilot, hardly tasting a thing. At the moment he was running in survival mode, still trying to process everything that had happened during these last two days. He didn't even bother listening in on the conversation the other three men had. He simply wanted dinner to be over with so he could climb back into his bed. Too bad that drinking himself into oblivion was no longer an option, as he needed to get away from it all.

"Martin?" Worried, Brooks took hold of Martin's left hand and held it tightly. "Why do I have the feeling you're not here with us?" He knew this moment would come, when realization of what they had done would fully hit Martin. Nathan Riggs was dead and the man had haunted Martin's days and nights. Now that he was gone, Martin might feel lost.

"Just tired." Martin downplayed his mood, but allowed the touch. He even offered Brooks a weak smile. "I don't feel that great."

"That's understandable, considering everything that happened recently. Now that it's over you need time to deal with it. Take that time. You know that we've got your back."

He did and nodded. "Thanks."

Garrett watched the exchange, but stayed quiet, unwilling to infringe on their privacy. However, he did understand one thing; he barely knew his older brother. It only made him even more determined to find out more.

/

"You can have the couch," Todd said and put down a pillow and blankets. "It's comfortable. Too comfortable, as I regularly fall asleep on it."

Garrett nodded his thanks. "I'm sure I'll be fine." He hesitated, but then went ahead anyway. "Will Martin be fine too?"

Garrett's concern no longer surprised Todd. He liked the young man and had a good feeling where Garrett was concerned. Turning out he had a little brother might be just what Martin needed. "Eventually, but he needs time. He's been through a lot. You too, of course," he added, realizing it was true for Garrett as well. "But you don't seem burdened by it. Not to the degree Martin is." Seeing Garrett shuffle his feet nervously reminded him of Martin, who usually did the same thing when he felt stressed.

"My father was nice to me, not so much to Martin. I never wanted to believe the rumors, but they turned out to be true, and I want to help, if I can."

"I'm sure you'll do great," Todd reassured the nervous young man. "Just take it slow and go easy on him. Martin doesn't react well to being pressured."

"Thanks for the advice." He'd heed it.

/

"What are you doing?" Todd woke up due to Brooks getting out of bed.

"I heard some noise. Martin might be having a nightmare," Brooks explained. He'd been unable to sleep and had caught the muffled sounds right away.

"Don't," Todd advised, hearing someone climb the stairs. "Leave it to Garrett instead." It was important Martin started accepting his brother into his life. This might just be the right moment for it. "Let them bond a little."

Brooks wasn't sure and thought it over. "Do you really think that's a good thing to do?"

"I do. Garrett desperately wants to be there for Martin. And Martin is dead set on keeping him at a distance. Maybe this will do the trick. You know what he's like when he wakes up from a nightmare – nowadays."

Brooks nodded. It had taken Martin a long time to accept comfort and to allow anyone to hug him, but he'd made great progress. "I'll still keep an eye on them." If he didn't like the way things progressed, he'd get involved.

"I know that." Todd knew Brooks best. He pulled his lover into his arms and cuddled up to him. "So, does this mean our family got extended again? Did we have another child without noticing?"

Brooks chuckled. "Maybe, I'm not sure yet. But I do like Garrett." The noise coming from Martin's room stopped, apparently Garrett had it handled. "Let's hope this will work out."

"It will, love. I'm sure of it."

/

His father's hands squeezed tighter, pushing all remaining air from his lungs. He didn't have any fight left in him and he gave up, finally surrendering to death. Now that it was here, he regretted leaving the world after all. He'd found several reasons to live for and his father was taking it all away again.

The fact that his brother momentarily stopped breathing, alarmed Garrett and urged him to act. "Martin, wake up! You're having a nightmare! Breathe!" He grabbed his brother's shoulder and shook him.

Martin reacted at once. His eyes opened, he drew in breath, which made him cough and pushed his attacker away from him. Nathan had made a mistake and would pay for it. His father shouldn't have given him any space.

"Martin, it's me, Garrett! Don't push me off the bed!" Garrett ended up on the floor, frowning at his brother.

Martin blinked. That didn't sound like Nathan at all. Focusing was still difficult, but eventually he managed to concentrate long enough to find it was Garrett in the room with him, not Nathan. "Where is he?" Frantically, he looked about, searching for the monster.

"He's dead," Garrett said as he carefully sat down on the side of the bed, keeping a close eye on his panicking brother. "They shot him, remember?" It was weird; he'd expected to mourn his father's passing, but instead he worried about Martin. His father had lied to him, had betrayed him, and he was done with the man. Martin was a different matter though. His brother clearly needed him. "It was a bad dream."

One, Martin suspected, he'd suffer from for a long time. Pushing his hair away from the face, he shivered due to the cold sweat covering his body. "I'm fine, go back to sleep."

"No, you're not." Garrett shook his head. "And I'm staying." Garrett considered his next move. Should he sit in the chair or stay close? He didn't like putting distance between them, so he moved onto the bed and rested his back against the wall.

Martin's eyes widened questioningly. What was Garrett up to?

"I'm staying. You can either go back to sleep or talk, I don't mind." But he was staying.

Martin, too drained to start an argument, stretched on his side, watching his brother closely. What was Garrett's hidden agenda?

"Or maybe I should talk," Garrett mused aloud. "I'm sorry I didn't come to find you sooner. I believed father's accusations when I should have found out the truth myself."

Great, now the kid was having a guilt trip on top of everything! "It wasn't your fault. Nathan's good at what he does. He plans and manipulates. You never stood a chance."

"Well, he can't do that anymore." Garrett looked at Martin. "We're all the family we have now. I want to make this work. Do you?"

Martin cringed; Garrett was way too direct. He wasn't used to that. "Maybe, I don't know yet."

Garrett took it in stride, recalling Todd's advice. "Well, at least you're not downright rejecting me," he observed calmly.

His brother was smarter than he acted. Martin sighed and wished he knew what to do.

"We'll figure it out," Garrett offered. "Do you want to go back to sleep? I'll stay and wake you if you have another nightmare."

Realizing Garrett was here to stay made Martin give in and close his eyes. He wasn't sure if he could go back to sleep, but it might stop Garrett from prodding. The silence lasted exactly four minutes and then Garrett started humming. Martin was about to tell him to stop, when he realized it felt soothing, so he didn't bitch about it. He fell asleep, wondering how much his life had changed in the course of just a few days. Nathan was dead and he had a brother. Martin had the feeling his life had taken a turn for the better. For the first time in years, his future looked promising.

/

"Brooks, you've got to see this!" Todd shook his lover gently and smiled when Brooks' eyes opened. The blue in them was still a bit hazy and he kissed him, smiling happily. "Come with me, quickly."

Todd didn't sound alarmed; he seemed amused. So Brooks took his time sitting up and blinking the sleep from his eyes. A quick look at the alarm clock told him it was eight AM. It was a good thing he'd asked Roger to cover for him at the precinct as last night had left him drained. "What's up?" He got to his feet and eyed Todd, who took his hand and guided him into the corridor. Amused, he realized they were heading for the guestroom.

"I found like them like this when I wanted to start breakfast." He'd wanted to check on them first.

Brooks grinned at seeing the brothers tightly snuggled up to each other. Garrett had wrapped his arms around Martin and held on tightly. Martin apparently had resigned to his fate. "You should take a picture just in case we need leverage one day."

"I already did," Todd admitted and winked at his lover. "Martin will continue to fight this though," he added, more seriously.

"He always does." He'd fought them at first too. "But I have faith in Garrett." He really did, he found to his surprise. "How about breakfast? I'm hungry and Martin will be pissed off if he realizes we saw him like this."

Todd chuckled softly while closing the door. "You're right. I'm on it. Do you have to go to work today?" He had a day off; perfect timing.

"Later today. I asked Roger to step in so he can have his fifteen minutes of fame after all. He looked forward to being acting captain."

"Well, if that means you can stay at home I'm fine with it. Want to grab a quick shower or help me with breakfast?"

"Do you mind me heading for the bathroom first? I still feel like I've got sand and Nathan Riggs all over me." Just the memory, but he still felt stained. He could have easily underestimated his enemy, but he'd been well prepared and in the end, they'd taken Nathan Riggs out. Martin was finally free of that particular demon.

"Go ahead. I'll have coffee ready when you're done."

"The real stuff," Brooks chided him. "Not the decaf!"

"Not the decaf," Todd agreed. Today, he'd make the real stuff as Brooks so elegantly put it!

/

Garrett was in a fine mood when he woke up. The sun shone into the little room, covering them with tendrils of warmth and light. He felt comfortable and holding his brother didn't feel awkward at all. He'd thought it would, but since the contact soothed his nightmare troubled brother, he'd stayed close and quickly discarded any embarrassment because he was hugging another man. This was his brother; not a random stranger. Brothers were supposed to take care of each other!

Martin held still, buying himself some time so he could figure out what to do next. Garrett held him close, his brother's arm tightly wrapped around him and keeping him in place. Last night was kind of hazy, but he recalled having a nightmare about his father choking the life out of him. He should probably see Cahill and talk to her about that. It might help him deal with the memories.

"Anyone awake in there?" Todd knocked and then listened closely.

"Yes, I'm awake!" Garrett reacted at once and smiled at the older man now stepping into the room. "Hey, Martin, wake up!" It didn't occur to him yet to let go. Since he was comfortable, he thought the same applied to his brother.

Todd gave them an amused smile. Garrett seemed chipper and very much awake, while Martin appeared in a foul mood and still trying to fully wake up. They made an interesting combo. "Breakfast is ready. You're probably hungry, so come and get it. Take your time though," he said, addressing Martin in particular, "no need to rush." He knew what Martin was like after a bad night.

Martin mouthed a thanks and felt relieved when Todd left. That left him to deal with the problem at hand; Garrett. "Let go of me."

"Are you sure about that?" Garrett loosened the hug, but didn't release Martin yet. If his brother wanted some distance he could easily move out of the embrace!

He wasn't sure, he realized, embarrassed. But he still moved away, broke Garrett's hold on him and gingerly sat up, trying to find out if his abdomen still hurt. It did protest the motion, sending a spike of pain through his abdominal area. It didn't matter though; he'd survived worse. "We shouldn't keep them waiting." Looking up, he found Garrett on his feet already, moving with energy that made him cringe in turn.

"I need to make a bathroom stop first. Don't leave without me!" Garrett left the room, hoping his brother would wait for him.

Martin shook his head in desperation. Why couldn't Garrett just go away? Why was he so damn determined to stay with him? His hair dropped in front of his face and he smoothed it back. The skin around his neck and throat burned and he touched it carefully. His father had left another mark on him. He slowly got his feet. There was no use dwelling on what had happened, he should get ready to face another day even though he didn't feel like it.

Taking a shower took too much of an effort, so he quickly abandoned the idea. He should probably change his clothing since he still wore the same outfit he had yesterday and it was stained with blood. His blood.

Martin sighed, opened the closet, and selected a pair of beige jeans and a black long sleeved shirt. His own jeans had blood on them too and he put them in the laundry basket, having learned his lesson. Todd would be pleased and he chuckled. Next, he removed his t-shirt, which made the injury flare up in protest of the movement. It wasn't just his abdomen though that hurt; his neck felt tender too.

A hard gasp coming from behind him had him turning about. It was easier to shift his whole body than parts of it, he noticed absentmindedly. He half expected Todd to stand there and to berate him for whatever he'd done wrong, but instead, he found Garrett staring at him in shock. "What?" he half barked/wheezed.

Garrett stared at his brother's exposed upper body; there were so many scars! He didn't have a single mark himself. "How did all that happen?" Maybe he shouldn't have asked, but he needed to know.

At first, Martin had no idea what Garrett meant, but then he caught the strange mix of horror and concern in the younger man's eyes. "The scars?" he asked, making sure he had it right.

"Yes, there are so many of them!" Garrett fought back the urge to touch them. He had the feeling his brother wouldn't like that. Seeing the strangulation marks around Martin's throat made him feel guilty, but he didn't know why.

Martin shrugged, carefully though. He probably shouldn't be saying this, but his brother had asked, so it was all on him. "Dad, being a Navy SEAL, and a cop, in that sequence," he said dismissively.

That was too much information in too few words for Garrett. "Because our father beat you up?" He had to start somewhere.

"Yeah." Martin slipped into the long sleeved shirt, but with difficulty. He pulled it down, covering the bandage. Todd would probably want to check on it later, the worrywart!

"You were in the army?" His father had never told him!

"Navy, if you want to nitpick." His hair wouldn't behave himself, even after smoothing it back several times, so he just gave up on it.

"Did you go overseas?" There was so much his father had kept from him. "And you were a SEAL?" He had read about them online.

"Yes on both accounts." Martin headed for the doorway. If Garrett planned to continue his questioning, he needed coffee to get him through it.

"And then you became a cop?" Garrett followed him downstairs, deep lines of thought edged onto his brow. So Martin had been serving his country for a long time, first in the military and then as a cop?

"Yip!" Martin sighed in relief at smelling the coffee coming from the kitchen. Hopefully Todd wasn't using the decaf stuff. He hated being fooled. "Morning," he said upon entering the kitchen and heading for the table. Giving Todd a probing look, he found the older man returning it, so he figured he might get caffeine today. Todd had the habit of avoiding looking at him when serving the fake stuff.

"Morning, you look rested, both of you!" Brooks winked at Todd, enjoying the photographic proof on his phone that the two brothers had curled up together. He'd wait for the best moment to use it to his advantage. "Sit down and serve yourself."

Martin poured himself some coffee and then went for the scrambled egg and toast. It was a start. He sat down, sipped from the black gold and sighed appreciatory. Yes, it was the real stuff – he hoped.

Todd caught the sigh and grinned. "It has caffeine, I figured you need it." Martin's smile made his day.

"Thanks, I do need it," Martin confirmed and started eating. From the corner of his eye he caught Garrett opting for muesli and prepping it like Brooks did. He shook his head minutely, amused. At least Garrett drank coffee instead of Todd's herbal tea!

"I want to check on your wound after breakfast," Todd announced, almost routinely and hating how often Martin was injured on the job. "I also asked Brooks to put you on desk duty for the next two weeks." That was how long the wound needed to heal properly.

Martin groaned. "Two whole weeks? Come on, that's not necessary! The only instructions they gave me at the hospital was not to lift anything heavy!"

"Nice try, but we both know that it's just a part of it." Todd inclined his head toward Martin. "You're staying out of trouble for now."

Hum, maybe he could find a way to get into trouble at the precinct? How hard could that be? Then they might reconsider and let him ride with Roger again. Oh, that reminded him that he'd neglected his partner. "How's Rog? And Trish?" He felt guilty for putting her family through that ordeal. He should have prevented it – somehow.

"Why don't you give them a call later today?" Brooks figured Martin might be worried about the Murtaughs' reaction to having Nathan Riggs invading their lives. Martin didn't have to worry though. He was a part of that family too.

"I should," Martin acknowledged, but he wasn't looking forward to it. "So what are our plans for today?" He slowly got to his feet and poured more coffee. It would keep him going during the day and then he'd crash hard in the evening. "When are we expected at the precinct?"

"You're not," Brooks said firmly. "You're resting. You've got an appointment with Cahill tomorrow, but for today, take things slow." The glare Martin gave him showed the younger man's disapproval. "That's final. I can make it into an order, Martin. I AM your captain."

Unfortunately Brooks was in his right to do that. "Fine," he growled, disapprovingly. So what was he supposed to do all day long?

/

Martin submitted to Todd's prodding. The surgeon had removed the bandage and checked the knife wound. Martin stared at the ceiling and tried hard to ignore the discomfort Todd's examination brought with it.

"It's fine," Todd stated, relieved. "Don't do anything strenuous and take it easy for a couple of days."

Under the impression that the physician was done, Martin pulled down the shirt and wanted to sit up.

"Not yet, I want to check your neck too."

Martin rolled back his eyes and complied, lying back down. "It's good, don't worry about it." But Todd's expression told him it wasn't working.

"Maybe, but you shouldn't forget you suffered a neck injury not so long. That puts a lot of pressure on your vertebrae." Hopefully this approach worked; he wanted Martin to talk about being strangled – again. "And this time it was your father chocking you." Martin distinctively flinched, urging him to tread lightly.

"Yeah," Martin muttered, "he was dead set on finishing what he'd started back then. Him stabbing me was a surprise. I didn't see it coming; I should have though." Nathan had been losing and had needed a way to regain the upper hand. "I underestimated him."

"Martin…" Todd failed to hold back his tears.

Todd's odd tone puzzled Martin and he turned his head slowly. Stunned, he noticed the other man was crying. "What's wrong?" How was he supposed to deal with this? He barely managed his own emotions; how was he supposed to handle Todd's?

"How can a father, any father, do that to their child?" Nathan had put Martin through hell as a child and now the bastard had done it again. He'd added to the trauma Martin already dragged around with him. He absolutely loathed Nathan Riggs! "I could never…"

"Hey!" Martin elbowed himself into an upright position and stared at Todd in confusion. He wanted to comfort him, console him, but he lacked the experience. How was he to show he cared?

"I just can't understand how… Why! Damn it, Martin, he hurt you again!"

Martin felt lost. Todd was clearly hurting, but what was he to do? Recalling all the times Brooks and Todd had pulled him into a hug when he'd been hurting, he knew what to do, but he'd never taken the initiative before. It was always Brooks or Todd hugging him. Yes, he'd asked Brooks to hold him one night, but this was different; this was about offering comfort, not receiving it. Hesitantly, because he wasn't sure it was the right thing to do, Martin wrapped an arm around Todd's shoulder and moved closer to the other man. "Hey," he started again, "it's over. He's dead."

Todd blinked in surprise, suddenly finding himself wrapped up in a hug. Martin pulled him closer and he rested his head against the Texan's shoulder. Calming down, he realized how much effort it had taken Martin to reach out to him. He started to smile and his tears dried up. Martin had come such a long way! "I'm proud of you," he whispered, and at hearing Martin's surprised gasp, he added, "you have a good heart, Martin. I'm glad you're in my life and a part of my family."

Martin briefly closed his eyes. He felt the same way, he realized. "Brooks and you, you saved me in so many ways. I would have given up on myself a long time ago without the two of you believing in me. One of my suicide missions would have done me in, or my father would have succeeded in killing me. I wouldn't have put up much of a fight. I didn't realize it until I started to lose consciousness, but Brooks and you are a very big reason why I want to live." Molly and Ben were another major part, and the Murtaughs of course. But Brooks and Todd had been his lifeline for the last two years and he wouldn't know what to do without them. "Now stop crying. I don't know how to handle that."

Todd chuckled. "You're handling it perfectly." He hugged Martin back for good measure and then slowly distanced himself. "I'm not sure what happened there. I was so angry! I wished I had known you all those years ago. If only I could have helped you back then!"

"Don't feel guilty." Martin shrugged. "The past's just that. We still got a lifetime ahead of us." And he would spend it with the families that had adopted him: the Murtaughs, Molly and Ben, Garrett providing if his younger brother stuck around, and above all, Brooks and Todd.

TBC

Epilogue

Two days later, Martin felt sufficiently recovered to go back to work, but Brooks and Todd vetoed it. They wanted him to rest a few more days instead, and Molly damn it, agreed, telling him to stay put and listen to them.

Things weren't working out the Martin wanted them. To make matters even worse, Garrett turned out to be a worrier too and hardly ever let him out of his sight. So he currently found himself confined to the couch, watching television, and embarrassingly enough, falling asleep regularly, which only strengthened their beliefs that he should rest.

"Martin? Can we talk?" Brooks had spent most of the day at the precinct, but had left early because he needed to discuss Nathan's funeral with Martin and Garrett.

"Sure," Martin said, wondering what was up. He realized it might be serious when Todd and Garrett joined them, sitting down in the living room, but allowing him to stay stretched out on the couch. Todd looked anxious, Brooks nervous, and Garrett seemed conflicted. "What's this about?"

"The funeral," Brooks stated softly, worried about Martin's reaction and monitoring the younger man closely.

"The funeral," Martin repeated, not catching on straight away. Seeing Garrett's torn expression, he realized whose funeral they were talking about. "My father's." He'd completely forgotten about it! He'd made no arrangements, so who…?

Brooks coughed, trying to rid himself of the irritating scratch that plagued his throat. Telling Martin wouldn't be easy. He had the feeling Garrett would roll with it, but not Martin. "The Aryan Fraternity claimed the body. They also planned the funeral, which is set for tomorrow." Martin looked pained and Brooks instinctively reached out, wrapping his fingers around Martin's right hand. "I'm sorry to bother you with this." He'd have preferred not to, but Nathan would always be their father and Martin and Garrett had a right to know what was happening.

"Are those the guys hanging about my father's place all the time? Bald, heavily tattooed?" Garrett remembered them; they were an obnoxious bunch. They'd also told him about his father abusing Martin.

"Yeah, that's them," Martin whispered, feeling miserable. He'd been remiss; he should have claimed his father's body instead.

"Oh no," Todd said and shook his head. "Don't you dare!" He pointed a finger in warning at Martin. "I can hear you think, you know! Making those funeral arrangements aren't your responsibility! The man tried killing you – again! You owe that guy nothing! Nothing at all!"

Todd's venomous tone stunned Martin, who gave the older man a worried look. "Todd –"

But Todd cut him short. "No, no arguing, just accept what I said just now!" He crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared at Martin.

"What Todd's trying to say," Brooks started, trying to salvage the situation, "is that no one expects you to arrange Nathan's funeral." After a moment's thought, he added, "And no one expects you to attend it either."

Attending his father's funeral hadn't crossed his mind, he shamefully admitted to himself. He was so very relieved that Nathan Riggs was dead that he hadn't given the matter any thought. He should have, though.

"Now, Garrett, if you want to attend, we'll accompany you. You don't have to go on your own, except of course, if you'd prefer that," Brooks said, addressing the younger man, who looked dumbfounded. Apparently Garrett hadn't thought of attending Nathan's funeral either and Brooks hated bursting their happy little bubble. The two brothers had started to bond, although Martin still distanced himself at times. Garrett however, was tenacious and kept seeking his brother's company.

"I'm not sure." Brooks' offer was unexpected and Garrett had to think it over. "He's my father, so I should pay him my respect, but…" But the thing was, Nathan had lost his respect after realizing how his father had treated Martin. Nathan had tried killing Martin. Garrett knew the truth now and found it hard, maybe even impossible, to forgive his father. How was he supposed to forgive something like that?

"Take your time and think it over. Just let us know in the morning. The funeral's set for four PM, so you have time to make up your mind." Whatever Garrett decided, Brooks would make sure the young man had company. He wouldn't allow Garrett to go there alone, not with the Aryan Fraternity also in attendance.

"Brooks?" Martin gingerly made eye contact with the older man.

Brooks nodded and reassuringly squeezed Martin's hand. "What is it?" No matter what, Martin had his support.

"If Garrett wants to go, I should too. I can't let him do this on his own." He didn't want to though; he really didn't want to get involved with the Aryan Fraternity again. They would be out for revenge. By now they had to know who'd killed Nathan and it wouldn't matter to them who fired the bullet that had killed the man. They'd take it out on him and try to get their hands on Garrett at the same time. Attending that funeral would be dangerous, but he refused to let Garrett go there without backup. "I should have his back on this one."

"What do you mean?" Garret leaned in closer and looked into his brother's eyes, easily catching the concern in them.

"This is the Aryan Fraternity we're talking about," Brooks supplied when Martin remained silent, seemingly lost in thought. "They'll want revenge."

Garrett blinked, surprised. He hadn't thought of that. It had never crossed his mind that someone would come for them in order to avenge Nathan Riggs. "Do you really think they'll do that?"

Martin nodded, hoping to convince his younger brother he was sincere. "I'm sure of it."

Fidgeting with his coffee mug, Garrett admitted Martin might be right. "Thanks for telling me. It never occurred to me." Until now, he hadn't fully realized how dangerous a man Nathan Riggs used to be, and maybe still was. "In that case I shouldn't go either." He refused to endanger Martin, and it was obvious his older brother would tag along in order to protect him.

"Just think about it," Martin said, unwilling to coerce his younger brother. "If you do want to attend, we'll figure it out." They always did.

/

Garrett walked in on Martin being sound asleep the next time he entered the living room. Brooks and Todd were in the kitchen, and Garrett had gone for a walk, trying to clear his head. He sat down on the couch, studying his older brother, who still looked exhausted. Todd had explained to him that Martin's exhaustion was mostly emotional, and that the wound itself didn't hamper Martin that much. His older brother had been to hell and back, if he were to believe Brooks and Todd, and he did – he believed them. The scars on Martin's body were proof of the hardships his brother had endured and he wasn't going to add to that burden.

Leaning back and making himself comfortable, he continued to study his older brother. Martin looked pale and Todd had been right to demand his older brother continued to rest. Suddenly Martin's eyes opened and fastened on him. Martin looked puzzled to find him close, but his brother should know better by now. He had Martin's back these days. "Still tired?"

Martin nodded, hating himself for giving into his weakness. But he was tired to the bone and the fatigue wasn't lessening, no matter how much he slept. He elbowed himself into a sitting position and slid his feet onto the floor. He had to stop sleeping that much; he was growing soft! "How about you?" Martin ran his fingers through his hair, which had dropped in front of his eyes.

"I'm fine. I went for a walk and it helped me figure out what I want."

"Regarding the funeral?" Martin prayed Garrett wouldn't want to attend. If the younger man did, it would open another can of worms and he wasn't ready to deal with the Aryan Fraternity just yet. They'd take his attendance as a provocation and retaliate. He didn't want Garrett caught up in the backlash of their father's death.

"Yes." Garrett nodded and made sure he had his brother's full attention before saying, "We're not attending. We're staying away. I want this to end." Martin's sigh told him that his brother was relieved, and he understood; attending would reopen a wound which had only begun to heal recently and he wasn't going to do that to his brother. "We're staying put."

Martin sighed in relief. "Thank you," he whispered, the words involuntarily escaping him. Until that very moment he hadn't realized just how worried he was. He'd barely been able to deal with the mere notion of having to face his father's skinhead friends.

Garrett smiled, trying to reassure Martin. "Why don't you get more sleep? You still looked exhausted."

"I shouldn't. I've been sleeping too much as it is. I need to get back on my feet."

"What for? Brooks told you that you're not allowed to go back to work for a few more days. Why not to take it easy instead? We can watch TV." He reached for the remote control and settled on some old fashioned cartoons, featuring Road Runner and Coyote. His father had told him to stop watching those, claiming they were for kids only. "Move over!" he told his brother, eager to cuddle up on the comfortable couch.

Martin chuckled, but moved, allowing Garrett to put up his feet and stretch. While growing up, he'd often wondered what having a brother would be like. He'd never thought he'd ever get the chance to find out, but it seemed, now he did!

The end!


End file.
